


shiny happy people

by sakabelle



Series: throw your love around [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, M/M, So much angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-02
Updated: 2017-04-02
Packaged: 2018-10-14 04:19:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10528818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sakabelle/pseuds/sakabelle
Summary: “I don't hate him,” Harry says, cutting Liam off before this conversation can go further.Disappointed it didn't work out? Sure. Sad? After he saw on fucking Instagram that Niall was home from his holiday and he hadn't heard from him? Obviously. Angry? That too, shortly after it was clear Niall was back to his old self-professed carefree ways.But hate? Hardly. Not with the way Harry's insides twist when he thinks about him. Which is why he tries so hard not to let himself do it.The hiatus was meant to be for the band, not for Niall and Harry's relationship. But one year in they've hardly spoken to each other. And because they're both stubborn, neither of them is going to be the first to break the ice.





	

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a while since I've written fic. Or since I've actually finished something to the point of being ready to post! Jess read it all over, because she is lovely and always does. So thanks Jess for still reading my stuff for all these years <3

@harry_styles: _@NiallOfficial Ahhh, a lovely tune my friend. Congratulations. H_

Niall stuffs his phone back into his pocket with such force that he crushes his finger. He pulls it out of his pocket and puts the tip of it in his mouth to dull the pain, just like he used to do when he was small.

Fucking Harry.

The two of them haven't spoken in months and Harry has the audacity to send through a stupid tweet to congratulate him on his stupid song. The only reason he released that in the first place is because he's not doing anything else. If Niall had his way, they'd be on tour right now. Or at least just finished their tour. Instead, everything was cut short.

“ _So that's it then?” Niall asks after everyone else has left the room. Now he's just sitting at a table looking across at his bandmates. His current bandmates, anyway. Who knows how much longer that term will apply, no matter what they say. “We're going to release an album and then not tour it? Just here's the album, so long, goodbye.”_

“ _That's not it.” Liam rolls his eyes. Niall has to bite his lip to keep his brain from realising that even Liam is getting tired and frustrated. That maybe this is actually the right decision rather than pressing on. “We're going to have to convince the world of that, Niall. Don't make us have to convince you too.”_

_Niall scuffs his foot on the shiny tile of the boardroom. He knows full well he's acting childish. He doesn't care._

“ _We always tour. Album drops in November, then we tour.”_

“ _Yes, I forgot,” Louis drawls, head resting in his hand. His index finger rubbing his eye. “The whole world revolves around our schedule.” He spits out the word schedule – and with good reason. It's only been their enemy for the past five years. That bloody schedule._

“ _That's not...” Niall trails off. “What was the point in recording this if we weren't going to tour it?!”_

“ _We are going to tour it.” Harry slides his chair closes to Niall and places his hand on Niall's knee. And though Niall's frustrated and pissed off and betrayed, he doesn't pull away. “Just not right away, pet.”_

_Liam and Louis just nod in silence. Louis doesn't even snort at Harry's nickname for Niall._

“ _We just need a break,” Harry continues, not moving his hand off of Niall. Instead, he opts to rub his thumb against his thigh while he speaks. “You know we do. You've said it just as many times as we have.”_

“ _I know that.” Niall glares at him, trying his best to stay angry rather than sliding into sadness. “I just thought we'd tour again.”_

“ _We will,” all three of them stress at once. Louis throws his hands outward and dramatically flings his head down onto the table. Liam laughs and pats him on the head. Harry just shakes his head._

“ _We will,” he repeats, kissing Niall on the forehead. “I promise you that.”_

Niall scoffs at the memory, chewing on his fingernail. At this point, that promise from Harry doesn't hold any weight. They're all off doing their own thing, and he supposes he is too. He had to – it's not like he was going to sit around and wait for them forever.

He pulls out his phone and stares at the screen again. Harry's tweet burns his eyes. His stupid minimalist way of speaking. His stupid black and white hipster icon.

It's obvious Harry didn't even give the song a listen. If he had, he'd know full well it was about him.

* * *

It's late and it's been a long day of interviews, not to mention golf. Niall sighs as he closes his eyes. Maybe he should have waited to drop his single until he was back in London. Because this was a whirlwind of a day he wasn't prepared for.

He doesn't know what he expected. But it certainly wasn't this. He honestly thought would pay him that much attention. After all, he's not Harry Styles. The absolutely number one most important and only member of One Direction.

He rolls over and kicks his feet around, trying to get more comfortable. Harry Styles. He sends one tweet and the whole world goes into a frenzy. And of course Niall has to reply – especially since he was so quick to send his gratitude to Louis and Liam.

His words were chosen carefully, typed out while he was standing on the green, putter tucked under his arm. _Thank you Harry buddie..._ he tapped out, then stared at the screen for a moment before adding the last part. _Love ya._

His heart pounds in his chest just thinking about it. The last night after The X Factor they were out late celebrating and he and Harry ended up back at Harry's house, tangled up together. Just like they did most nights.

It's almost surreal that Niall's laying here alone now. And before he can dwell on it much longer, his phone rings from the side table. It's about one in the morning, and since it doesn't just go to voicemail that means it's one of six people on the other end.

He reaches out from under the covers and grabs his phone, not bothering to sit up. A quick glance at the screen and he signs. Out of the six people this could be, of course it's the most likely.

“Hi Lou.”

“Nialler! What's up lad? Did I wake you? Or interrupt you?” He snorts and Niall rolls his eyes. It's been a long time since he's brought someone back to his hotel room and even longer since he's slept around the way he used to.

“No. And if I was busy I certainly wouldn't have answered the phone for you,” he laughs, trying to sound nonchalant. He's supposed to be carefree, after all. Even if he knows that Louis knows him better than that.

“But you would have if I was Harry.” Louis's voice stings in Niall's ear, but Louis quickly continues. He clearly hasn't meant to start anything – just making a comment like he always does. Subtlety has never been his strong suit. “Had a bit of a day, then? You could have told me when you were planning on dropping that!”

“Yeh, sorry.” Niall shifts in bed, propping himself up with one arm. “Didn't really know, to be honest. Suits called me up, told me they're dropping it. You know how it is.”

“Do I ever,” Louis laughs and Niall smiles. Everything is always according to the schedule and even now, Niall's not in control of it. “I told you it was good though. You never listen to me.” Niall shrugs, even though Louis obviously can't see him. “I can see you shrugging.” Or maybe he can.

“It's not... I just didn't think it's what people expected.”

“That's the beauty of it, isn't it? No one expects anything from us anymore. We can do whatever we want.”

“As long as it's on the schedule,” the two of them say together, followed by laughter. For a second, everything feels back to normal. But only for a second, because when Niall looks around he realises again that he's alone in this room. Tommo isn't here, and they're not having a laugh over a couple of drinks from the minibar.

Christ, he hasn't even opened the minibar in the three days he's been here.

“How's your mum?” Niall asks, changing the subject to a much more serious one. Maybe it's selfish, but he doesn't want to talk about himself anymore. Or about Harry. But he should ask anyway – and shifting the conversation focus is just a nice bonus. Really.

Louis is silent for a moment, which tips Niall off that it's not good news. Instantly, he feels guilty. He should have just sucked it up and let Louis get on his case about Harry.

“It doesn't look good.” Niall's heart sinks and he licks his lips, thinking about what the hell he's supposed to say. He's never been good at this sort of thing. “They said it's a matter of weeks now.”

“That...” Niall trails off, trying to think of what he can say that would possibly help. “I'm sorry,” is all he lands on.

“Thanks,” Louis says quickly, and then quickly shifts his tone of voice. “She's keeping in good spirits though. Being strong for everyone else.”

“Right.” Niall wouldn't have expected anything else of Jay. Even in her last days, she's the one telling everyone it's going to be alright and not to be upset. He blinks back a couple of tears. This isn't the way Louis should be spending his time off. They were supposed to be recharging their batteries – not fighting with stupid adult problems they have no control over.

“You going to tour then?” Louis asks. It's obvious he's doing the same thing Niall had done only moments ago.

“I dunno,” Niall says, even though he does. Of course he's going to tour. He's going to make an album and tour the world because god only knows when he'll get to do that again if he sits around and waits for the others. “Maybe.”

Louis laughs. “Well save a spot for me as an opener, yeah? We can go off and smash it together. Just like the old days.”

“An opener? Gotta work on something first, Tommo. Can't just stand there and tell jokes for half an hour.”

“You know full well I could.” Niall rolls his eyes. Along with a quip, arrogance also isn't far when Louis is around. “But no, I've got some stuff in the works.”

“Oh yeah?” Niall sits up, suddenly interested. Out of all of them, the last person he expected to work on solo material was Louis. In fact, Louis explicitly said he wasn't going to do that. He wanted to write for other people instead. He was going to save his own ideas for the band.

The band that's on a break, Niall reminds himself. The last thing they need is new material. They've got to tour their old material before they can even think about that.

“Yeah, I don't know.” Louis pauses and Niall jiggles his leg a bit under the covers, eager to hear more. “I just started writing as a way to cope with this stuff with Mum. Didn't want to give it to anyone else since it's personal, you know?”

Niall knows – better than anyone. If he gave _This Town_ to anyone and they released it, hearing someone else singing about butterflies coming alive would be enough to spiral him into doing something stupid. “Sure.”

“I don't know what it'll be but it's fun to mess around in the studio again.”

“Yeah it is.” Niall yawns. He's quickly realising how late it is and how much this day took a toll on him. His chat with Louis relaxed him more than he thought he needed.

“I'll let you go... just wanted to talk to the big superstar for a minute,” Louis laughs.

“Right,” Niall says. He's not a superstar at all, it's one song. And a sad one at that. Not a banger like he should have released if he wanted to put on any type of exciting show in the near future. “Night, Tommo.”

“Talk soon... or and Nialler?”

“Hm?”

“If it's so hard, just go drive your highways to be with him then,” Louis laughs, clearly pleased with his stupid quip.

“Shut up,” Niall interrupts him, but Louis doesn't stop laughing. “Twat.”

“Sweet dreams!” Louis says through his laughter before hanging up.

Niall rolls his eyes and slides back down onto his pillows. He doesn't even bother to put his phone back on the bedside table. Instead, he closes his eyes and drifts off to sleep with a smile on his face.

* * *

Amidst another week of promotion, interviews and golfing, Niall finds himself back in London. Finally, he drops his bags into the living room of his house. He stretches out and basks in the emptiness. The quiet. The space that's all his own.

It's about three in the afternoon, and though he should be jet-lagged from his journey he's not. Instead he shuffles over to his fridge. There's not much in there – a few questionable leftovers (half a pizza, some chicken and what appears to be a container of Chinese takeaway), a few bottles of beer and half a litre of coke.

Naturally, he grabs a bottle of beer and pours it into a pint glass. He studies it as he pours – the glass is from Cheers in Boston. Probably from a couple years ago now. There's not a matching pint glass in his house because when they started travelling in America he tended to pick up souvenirs from everywhere he went.

“ _Where everybody knows your name...” Harry sings as they walk into the bar. Which is really just a tourist trap._

“ _Jesus, Harry,” Niall mutters as he walks up to the bar. He's seen maybe one episode of Cheers in his life, but he's still well aware of the significance._

“ _Look, Niall.” Harry sits down at the bar and points to the wall. “You can get a pint in a commemorative glass.”_

“ _Thought you were off the beer,” Niall says, sitting down beside Harry and cocking his head to the side. He gives a quick glance around. Aside from their security (who are always in tow when they're on tour) there's no one else here. No one else who seems to know or care who they are, anyway. It's a nice change from their usual Hard Day's Night type of life. “Gives you a headache.”_

_Harry shrugs and looks at the drink list. Usually Niall's right – beer does give him a headache. But as Niall full well knows, when the two of them are together it's rare they follow any sort of rules. “Guiness?” he asks._

_Niall sticks out his tongue. “Stereotypical. Sam Adams,” he says, making eye contact with the girl behind the bar._

_She smiles at him and Harry elbows him. “Reckon she likes you, Nialler.”_

_Niall lets out half of a laugh and even that's forced. He and Harry are at a place where they can joke about it now, he supposes. But a year or so ago, things weren't so solid with the two of them and Niall's promiscuity was the reason. “Right.”_

“ _And put them in those Cheers pint glass things,” Harry says, raising his voice so she can hear him._

“ _Good god Styles.” Niall puts his head in his hands. Could he be more embarrassing?_

_"You know you love me." Harry quips with a grin that lights up his whole face. As if there's any other kind._

_Of course he does. He always has, even if it took a drunken evening and a bit of a mess to get there (because who ever thinks they're going to fool around with their bandmate and have it lead to anything other than a complete disaster?)_

“ _Obviously,” Niall laughs with a slight roll of his eyes and Harry taps him on the shoulder. Even if they're not making it public, they know. Hiding in plain sight, as they say._

Niall studies his half-finished pint. The beer's been in his fridge so long that it's starting to go off and it's leaving a bad taste in his mouth. He licks his lips and thumbs the frosted _Cheers_ logo. He's just got the one glass. Harry's is probably long gone. Doesn't fit his aesthetic – whatever that is this week.

He pours the rest of the beer down the drain and heads upstairs to his bedroom. This is such a fucking mess. He could probably call Harry and he takes out his phone to do just that.

But he's met with a text from his mum on the screen. So instead of calling Harry he calls her back. Because he's a responsible and loving son and he always calls her right away.

Or not. “Oh Niall,” she says, answering the phone after two rings. “Surprised to hear from you so quickly. Figured it'd be at least a couple of days.”

Niall chooses to ignore her dig at him and not get into it with her. Whether she's kidding or not, he's not in the mood. “Right,” he says instead. “What's up?”

“Just called to see how you are. I heard you on the radio the other day, you know. I didn't know you were releasing a song. One usually tells their mother these things.”

He rolls his eyes. What's he supposed to do? Call up his mum and say “Look mum, I really miss being in the band and I was going crazy not doing anything and my life with Harry has gone to shit and I know I'm the one who fucked it all up so I wrote a song instead of actually trying to sort it out.”

Of course not. “Yeah.” He scratches the back of his neck like he always does when he's uneasy. “Got bored, you know. Had to do something.” Well, that's half of it anyway.

“Well, it was just lovely. And what did the other boys think?”

“They thought it was fine.” Which is true – as much as he knows anyway. They probably could have just been putting on a show for Twitter. He bites his lip because he knows what's coming next.

“Have you spoken to Louis? Isn't that awful about his mother?” Or maybe he doesn't. Maybe he's just worried for nothing. Maybe his mum doesn't actually care what's going on between him and Harry. Maybe she thinks Harry was just another fling of his – and when it's done it's done. Never to be brought up again.

“Yeh, talked to him the other day. Seems to be alright, though.”

“Hmmm.” Maura pauses for a moment and Niall takes a deep breath. Here it comes. “So can we expect you home for a visit any time soon?”

Niall lets out that breath and instantly regrets it, because now his mum probably thinks it's on account of her question. “Probably. I dunno what my schedule is like. Got me doin' promo and stuff.”

“I know, but do try to come home for a couple days when you can.”

“I will.” It's an empty promise, though. He doesn't go back home as often as he should. In fact, London is more home to him these days than Mullingar or even Dublin is.

Maura seems satisfied with that answer, however likely it is. She lets him go in a haste – which isn't surprising. Conversations are always quick and to the point with her.

Niall stuffs his phone back into his pocket and sighs. Perhaps the only person thinking about his relationship with Harry (or lack thereof) is himself.

* * *

“So you've listened to his song, then?”

Harry scoffs at Liam's question as he walks down the streets of Beverly Hills. Of course he's heard Niall's song. The whole bloody world has heard it. Unsubtle as it is. “Of course I have,” he says, neglecting to add the rest. There's no point.

“And?” Liam asks, and Harry can almost see him lean in closer. Even though he's an ocean away, he still manages to stick his nose where it doesn't belong.

“And what? It was good. Good for him. I told him as much.”

“You did?” Liam's voice peaks at the end and Harry knows right away he's got the wrong idea.

“On Twitter,” he clarifies, knowing it's going to be met with a disapproving look. Luckily they're not on Facetime.

“Jesus, Harry,” Liam groans. Harry can almost picture it. Mouth turned down, head in his hands, forehead creased. “Just ring him.”

“What for?” Harry snaps, and instantly regrets it. If anyone around him is listening to his conversation, he doesn't want them to get the slightest impression that he's anything less than content with his life at the moment. “So he can ignore the call?”

“That's not-”

Harry leans against the side of a restaurant. 9021 Pho, to be exact. He contemplates going inside for lunch for a split second before lowering his voice and continuing with Liam. “Look, he left for months. Went off to Vietnam with his friends. Which is fine, great even. He didn't want to take a break in the first place and then he went off and actually took a vacation. So I gave him his space.”

“Okay, but-”

“And when he got home did I get one message from him? One call? One text that said 'Hey pet, missed you?' Nothing. So he left and went to find himself. Which is exactly how he used to be. Still is, I guess.”

Nothing from Liam. Just silence. Which Harry should have expected. Because he's right – and Liam knows he's right. They've done this same song and dance a million times before.

“What am I supposed to do? Keep chasing him forever?” Harry glances around. Probably shouldn't be having this conversation in public – and LA of all places. Probably should have just let it go to voice when he saw Liam's face on the call display.

Liam sighs loudly. “No.”

“So there you go.” Harry shrugs. “It's done then. Go back to being bandmates. It's fine.”

“Harry, how do you expect to be in a band with him if you can't even speak to him?”

“I can speak to him, Liam,” Harry stresses, drawing out Liam's name and kicking a pebble on the ground. “I just choose not to right now. That's the point of the break, isn't it?”

“Not really,” Liam mutters, but then sighs again because Harry's not going to let him get anywhere with this conversation. Not today, anyway. “I guess so.”

Harry smirks. Even though Liam's backtracking, he's glad he at least got some kind of agreement out of him. “I don't hate him,” he says, because Liam tends to be a bit of a drama queen.

“You don't hate anyone, Harry.”

Harry laughs and looks across the street at the Beverly Hills sign. There's a few people walking around, and he really needs to get out of here before he gets spotted. Plus it's nearly lunch time and he's hungry and Pho would really hit the spot.

“I suppose that's true.” Especially with Niall. Disappointed it didn't work out? Sure. Sad? After he saw on fucking Instagram that Niall was home from his holiday and he hadn't heard from him? Obviously. Angry? That too, shortly after it was clear Niall was back to his old self-professed carefree self.

But hate? Hardly. Not with the way Harry's insides twist when he thinks about him. Which is why he tries so hard not to let himself do it.

* * *

Back in London and he's back in the studio already. Riding the high from the response to his random as fuck single, now more than ever Niall feels he's got to get more out while he can.

“You can't keep writing slow, acoustic love songs,” Jamie says with a sigh as Niall picks at his guitar.

“I know that,” Niall snaps at him, feeling instantly guilty. It's not Jamie's fault he's maudlin. He's just offering the same advice that he's been giving out ever since they worked together on _Up All Night._ Which seems like ages ago now. “I just... I dunno.” He starts playing with the strings again.

It's weird doing this on his own.

“ _For your eyes only,” Niall sings, voice raspy as he strums out the notes Harry's lazily scratched out on a piece of paper. “I show you my heart...”_

_Harry slides over beside him and looks down at the paper as well. It's about four in the morning and they're sitting on Niall's living room floor. He starts to sing along, guiding Niall through the melody._

“ _For when you're lonely, and forget who you are.” Harry doesn't need to look at the paper as he's singing. He's gone over the lyrics so many times already that he's got them memorized. Even if this doesn't end up making the album, he'll probably be humming it randomly for the rest of his days._

_Niall's voice is thick and he sings slowly. This is the first time he's heard the song and even with Harry's scribbles he's having a hard time picking up the chords. “I'm missing... I'm missing half of me...” he lingers on me, stretching the word out while he tries to figure out the next bit._

“ _I'm missing half of me when we're apart,” Harry continues, resting his head on Niall's shoulder._

_Niall smiles, picking out the chords as he goes. It's sort of hard to play with Harry leaning on him like this, but it's alright. He's not about to shrug him off._

“ _Now you know me,” Niall sings, finding the tune along with Harry's voice. “For your eyes only.”_

_He keeps strumming along, focused more on figuring out how the guitar should sound rather than the words. But Harry keeps singing in his ear, causing him to lose focus. Forgetting everything about the world around him. Just like he always does when Harry's around._

“ _Now you know me...” Harry whispers, pecking at the corner of Niall's mouth. “For your eyes only...”_

_And Niall can't help but turn his head and kiss him. Songwriting session be damned._

“I can't do it,” Niall blurts out as the memory comes rushing back to him. He throws his face into his hands. Luckily his guitar is strapped to him, or it would have gone crashing to the floor. “Can't do it,” he mutters, heart racing like he's about to spiral into a panic attack.

“What?” Jamie looks at him and gently pulls on Niall's wrist to guide a hand away from his face. “Of course you can.”

Niall sighs and wipes a rogue tear away with the hand that still lingers on his face. It's not like he's never melted down in front of Jamie before – marathon songwriting and recording sessions will do that to you. Especially when they're done in a haste in a hotel room.

Even if he can do it alone, he's not sure he wants to. He just shakes his head, looking Jamie right in the eyes, hoping he'll get it. So Niall doesn't have to spell it out. He's not even sure he could if he tried.

“How often did you do this part all together anyway?” Jamie asks him, his voice soft.

Niall shrugs. Hardly ever. Maybe more in the beginning, but as time went on they all went off on their own anyway. The only difference was, they always had someone to bring their work back to.

“You know you can do this. Come on, let's get a bit more upbeat then. You said it yourself – if you have twelve this towns on the album you'll put everyone to sleep.”

Niall has to chuckle at that. He supposes that's true. If he wants to play stadiums – or at least arenas again he's going to have to have at least a couple songs to get the crowd going. Can't sit up there on a stool and whine about Harry for an hour and a half.

* * *

After seven months of filming in LA, Harry can't help but admit it's nice to be back in London. Even if he prefers LA (and really, who wouldn't?) London is a close second. There's something about being back in his home country. Plus, the air is a lot cleaner. Or a lot more familiar, at the very least.

His house is small – nothing like the mansion he's got in Bel Air. (The Fresh Prince, Louis called him once, and only once, before Niall smacked him upside the head and told him to be more original.) Of course, finding a house that big is next to impossible in London. When he comes home he'd much rather have a sense of normalcy rather than be a constant reminder to himself of who he is.

The constant reminders of what was still decorate his walls, however. The BRIT award on his mantle, the platinum record from Sony on his wall. The photo of himself and Niall draped over each other at Jay and Dan's wedding.

Harry can't help but pick it up. “ _Right back where we started from,”_ is painted on the frame. Niall's clever attempt at a joke, since the picture was meant for his home in California. He sets it down. The photo never made it there. And with good reason. By the time time Harry left London to live in LA for an extended period of time, he hadn't spoken to Niall in months. He hardly wanted to take the reminder along with him when he just wanted to forget. It's hard to believe it's been nearly a year at this point.

And yet, the reminders keep rolling in. His phone buzzes in his pocket and he fishes it out. Louis, of course. He's still texting all of them daily – at least Harry assumes he is. Because it's unlikely Louis is only communicating with him.

_Back in Londontown then?_

Harry debates ignoring him and just unpacking his things. But after five years in a band with him, he knows it's better to just text him back, lest he be annoyed by messages every hour.

_Yes. Landed an hour ago. Just standing in my kitchen in Kensington. About to do some laundry._

Before he can put his phone away those pesky three dots appear. Harry shakes his head and rolls his eyes for himself only. He should have just silenced his phone and ignored Louis.

_Great. Fancy a lads night? All four of us are in London you know._

No, in fact, Harry didn't know. If he thought about it for a second, he probably could have figured it out. After all Louis is always in London – or Britain, anyway. And relatively speaking, it's not like anywhere in Britain is really that far away. (After living in California, that's more true than ever.) Liam's also in London all the time these days, spending every waking moment with Cheryl.

And Niall?

_Helllloooooooo_

Thirty seconds. That's how long it takes for Louis to get frustrated that Harry hasn't texted him back. But at least it takes his mind off Niall.

 _Really tired, Louis._ He texts back. Whether physically or mentally, it's not a lie. It's a long flight over to London from LA, and Harry's really not ready to see Niall and engage in any sort of small talk with him. Or worse, big talk about what the hell happened or didn't happen between the two of them. Especially after he thought things were so good.

_Come onnnnnnnnnn_

He considers being short with Louis. Texting him back and saying no, he's just come home and the last thing he wants to do is see Niall and the rest of them and have a few drinks and act like nothing's changed. He doesn't want to hang out just the four of them and sit around in his living room spending the evening deciding what to watch on Netflix before giving up and shooting the shit.

He just wants to go to sleep. Maybe call Gemma for supper or coffee. That's it.

_That's it I'm coming over._

_No_ Harry starts to text back, but before he can hit send, there's a knock at his door. He snaps his gaze towards it. Unbelievable. When he opens the door Louis is standing there. Not surprisingly, wearing a shit-eating grin.

“I've been home for five minutes you know,” Harry says with a sigh and a shake of his head. Nevertheless, he leaves the door open and allows Louis to step inside.

“Yes, I know,” Louis replies, sounding rather sheepish. “Actually came 'round about an hour ago but then I realised you were probably still at the airport.”

“You always did have trouble understanding that travel from Heathrow to anywhere takes time. Not just home as soon as the plane touches down.” He reaches into his cupboard to pull out a couple of glasses – moving his hand right past the stupid novelty Cheers pint glass. He hasn't got the matching one anyway.

Louis shrugs, sitting himself down at the bar in Harry's kitchen. “I suppose so. What're you doing tonight? Shall I call the others, then?”

Harry gives him a look. His mouth hangs open and his eyes narrow. “You're joking.”

“I assure you I'm not.”

Harry still glares at him. Doesn't even make a move to get any drinks out of the fridge. He'll glare at Louis all day if he has to. Long enough for him to get the fucking point.

“Look I'm not here to stir the pot. I don't care what's going on between you and Niall.”

“Nothing,” Harry cuts in. He's satisfied enough with that that he pulls two coconut waters out of his fridge.

“Whatever. I'm bored. Let's just get together and drink something other than...” Louis wrinkles his nose as he watches Harry pour the cloudy liquid into their glasses. “Coconut water? Jesus Christ, we need to get the California out of you. Now.”

Harry just wiggles his eyebrows and takes a long swig of his drink. He keeps his eyes on Louis.

Louis rolls his eyes and downs his in just one go, as if to prove a point. “There. Now let's get the lads over here and drink something stronger. Let's watch a movie.” He stands up, walking over to the telly, and Harry follows him into the living room. “Look, we can watch Bridesmaids. Have you seen this? It's a gem. Let's do it.”

“Can't you and I just watch it?” Harry almost whines. He rolls his head back and forth between his shoulders trying to relieve some of the tension from both the flight and this bloody conversation. Arguing with Louis is a losing battle and he knows it. It always has been and just because they're taking a break from being in a band doesn't mean that's changed a bit.

“No,” Louis says, already pulling his phone out of his pocket. “I'm texting the others.”

“Text Zayn too while you're at it.” Harry smirks, bringing his glass back up to his lips and looking at Louis over the rim.

As expected, Louis snaps his head up so fast Harry swears he hears something crack. “Oh, so now you're a funny man.”

Harry giggles a bit. Obviously he doesn't want Louis to actually text Zayn. Not like Zayn would answer him anyway. But if Louis is going to play games, Harry can strategise with the best of them.

“Don't get quippy with me, Harry,” Louis continues, looking back down at his phone. “I know what you're trying to do. And your fight with Niall is hardly the same as fucking off in the middle of a fucking tour. He's also not slagging us off every chance he gets.”

“Alright, alright, alright.” Harry holds up his free hand as he finishes off his drink. Clearly he's hit more of a nerve than he thought. He should have known Louis would still be just as pissed off today as he was on Black Monday (as he and Niall liked to call it). “Sorry.”

Louis shrugs it off and puts his phone back into his pocket. “It's done. They're gonna be here in an hour. Cheryl too, so we don't need to call it a reunion or whatever.” Louis smacks Harry in the chest as he saunters past him, back into the kitchen. He peers inside the fridge. “Got anymore of that coconut water? Ah, here we are.”

“I can't believe you,” he sighs, still standing there, watching Louis muck about in his kitchen.

“It actually wasn't bad.”

Harry shakes his head and starts to pick up his luggage. That wasn't what he meant.

* * *

Niall peers outside his window, waiting for Liam to come pick him up. He looks down at his phone for what feels like the millionth time in the past half hour.

_So get over yourself and get over here. I know you miss us! Wouldn't be writing sappy boyband tunes if you didn't!_

He's read that bloody text message from Louis over and over again. He hasn't responded back, and knowing Louis he's taken that as a “Yeah, mate! See you soon!”

Which he supposes it is, given that he's standing here waiting for Liam. He could have just shut off his phone and left. Gone to the pub, drank his sorrows away. But no – he's right here looking out his window. Waiting.

He taps his foot in anticipation.

A car turns down his street and his heart speeds up. It doesn't stop in front of his house. Instead it keeps rolling along and Niall sighs. He's being ridiculous. He's making too much out of this. It's just Harry's house. He's been there millions of times.

But not since everything changed.

_Everything's different this time around. For one – there's no hype about rehearsals or group texts about potential set lists. There were no performances or visits to any late night talk shows. There was no week long visit to the set of SNL in preparation to be that week's musical guest._

_None of it. Everything's different. Time slowed down somehow. And though that was the whole bloody plan, Niall isn't used to it._

_Which is how he found himself at Harry's house every single day since December 15 th. He didn't even go home for Christmas. Christ – it's the first week of January and all he and Harry did was take a train up to his mum's place for dinner and then promptly went back home._

“ _I'm going to New York you know,” Harry says one night as they sit in front of the telly. They aren't even paying it much attention, and lately there isn't much agreement on what to watch anyway. Harry doesn't care much for sports, and Niall couldn't be bothered with House of Cards or whatever drama Harry's into at the moment._

_Yes, Niall is well aware Harry's off to New York to start working on the movie. He's known that this was coming back when they were on tour. The idea of taking a break to pursue solo ideas was part of the point of this._

_And he also knows that he's supposed to be supportive of all that. Which is why he'd hugged Harry and told him how proud of him he was. But that was months ago. It seemed so far off back then._

“ _Niall?” Harry slides over closer to him. Niall doesn't move – he just lets Harry move in on him. Doesn't care what he does, really. “You could come too.”_

_Niall scoffs. He can't help it. He hates New York and Harry knows that damn well. He's confined to a hotel room at the best of times, getting mobbed on the street at the worst. No, there's no way he's going to New York. He'd rather just stay in this bubble with Harry until Louis and Liam get their shit together and decide it's time to start planning the tour._

“ _What?” Harry asks. As if he doesn't know._

“ _You know what,” Niall snaps at him. It's harsher than he meant and that's evidenced by the hurt look on Harry's face. “I don't want to go to fucking New York, Harry.”_

“ _You'd rather stay here.”_

_Niall shrugs. Yes, that's exactly it. If he could stay in limbo for just a little longer, that'd be great. Perfect, even._

“ _You need a project, pet.”_

_Niall sighs again. That's what everyone's saying. He's heard it over and over again. “Can't just play golf all the time, Niall.” “Go do something, Niall.” “Use this time off to your advantage, Niall.”_

“ _I don't need a project,” he says, even though it's clear he does._

_It's Harry's turn to sigh. Even if he's the most patient person in the world, Niall knows that the two of them being stuck inside this house not doing anything is testing him. Neither of them are the type to stand still. “Maybe not, but you need to do something.” He leans in closer to Niall and places his hand on his shoulder. “And I love you, I really do, but I need to go do this.”_

_Niall turns to look at him. There's no use fighting it. Besides, he doesn't want Harry to stay on account of him, anyway. “I know.”_

“ _If you don't want to come with me, why don't you go on a trip or something?” Harry suggests, obviously trying to lighten the dark mood in the room. “You said you wanted to get out and do that, see all the places we went without being stuck in a hotel.”_

“ _I only said that because people kept bugging me about what I was going to do with my free time.”_

“ _So actually go do it. I'll still be here when you get back.”_

The lights of Liam's car cut through the foggy dusk of the evening. Niall takes a deep breath. This is stupid. All that shit he and Harry went through, and now here he is, getting into Liam's car like it's nothing. Like they're just going to have a relaxing, normal evening.

Still, he steps outside of his house. He gives the car a quick wave before locking the door behind him.

He opens the passenger-side door of the car, and Liam laughs at him. He didn't notice that it was Cheryl driving on account of their tinted windows.

“Backseat, Nialler. Sorry,” he says with a smile.

Niall rolls his eyes, but inside he's relived. At least Cheryl will diffuse any tension. She's good at that. Maybe it's because she's older, or because she's a girl. Probably both, Niall decides as he slides into the backseat.

It's not a long drive to Harry's house from his own. In fact, he probably could have walked. He's done it before and it's only taken about an hour. Probably less if he actually walked and didn't stop for a drink on the way. Still, he's grateful for the ride. At least then he won't be awkwardly showing up on his own.

“How're you doing, Niall?” Cheryl asks him, looking back at him in the rearview mirror. “I heard your song on the radio, it's lovely.”

“Thanks,” he says, staring out the window and watching the houses go by. “Yeah, good. Busy in the studio.”

“And you said you weren't going to cut an album,” Liam says, turning to look back at him with a wink.

“Had to do somethin',” Niall mutters and instantly he regrets it. He's not about to spend the entire evening moping about. If he's going to spend the evening with Harry and the others he's going to act like everything's fine. If they don't care about going back on tour, then he certainly won't concern himself with it. Outwardly, anyway.

Cheryl turns up the radio and softly sings along to the likes of Rhianna and Lady Gaga before they pull up in front of Harry's house. Well, the gate in front of Harry's house. Niall briefly wonders if the code is still the same or if he's changed it.

It's been eight months since he's been there, he remembers bitterly. Of course he's changed it.

“Whoooo is it?” Louis's voice rings through the intercom.

“It's us,” Cheryl says simply, and Louis buzzes them in right away without giving her a hard time. For the second time that evening, Niall thanks god that she's there with them. Maybe Louis will give them less shit.

They park the car and walk up the steps to Harry's place. Niall shoves his hands inside the pockets of his jumper. He looks upwards and starts tapping his foot again. Harry's house is so stupid. It's so posh and over the top and stupid. He literally lives in one of the only gated complexes in London proper. The whole outside is painted white and every door is black. Of course there's no spec of any dirt anywhere. No sign that this building is anything more than two years old.

Harry might as well have just stayed in LA. Why even bother coming back to the UK if he's going to live like this?

Before Niall can spiral further into his angry thoughts, the door opens. And there he is – standing in the doorway wearing stupid tight black jeans and a stupid striped black and white button down.

Liam and Cheryl step inside first, and Niall follows closely behind them.

“Evening,” Harry says, taking Cheryl's coat from her.

Niall takes another breath and decides that this is it. He's absolutely not going to act weird at all. Everything is fine. He and Harry were friends before, and they can be friends again. They have to be.

“Evening, Styles,” Niall says, lightly smacking Harry in the chest with the back of his hand. “Love what you've done with the place.”

“I haven't done anything with it,” Harry says.

Niall tries not to roll his eyes. Obviously he hasn't. How could he when he's been in LA this whole time? “Right.”

Liam starts to make small talk with Harry, but it's just background noise to Niall. He steps further into Harry's house and glances around. Harry's right – he's truly done nothing with the house. It's exactly the same as it was when he'd last been here.

Niall's eyes fall on the photo of the two of them sitting on top of the mantle. He tries not to let his gaze linger there too long. Still, his chest tightens. It all seems so long ago now. He hardly notices Louis walk up to him, hand covering his mouth and chewing on his index finger.

“Good to see you,” he says.

“Hmmmm...” Niall doesn't say anything. He's looking anywhere but at that stupid picture, but his mind's still set on it.

“I bought beer,” Louis says.

Thank goodness for him. Even if Louis is a meddling prick, at least he knows how to make this evening go down a little easier.

“Great.”

Louis walks over to the fridge and hands Niall a bottle of Boddington's. “Cheers, mate.”

The two of them tap the lips of their bottles together and Niall takes a long swig of his. Acting like everything is the same as it ever was is going to be easier said than done.

* * *

This is surreal. Surreal, and stupid and a bit strained, if he's being honest.

Harry's sat on the plush chair nearest his front window. He never sits in that chair. Cheryl and Liam are on the couch next to him and Louis is on the other side of the couch.

And who's sat between them? Niall, of course. He's just sitting there, hunched over slightly, holding his third bottle of beer and watching the screen. (Which is playing Bridesmaids because Louis always gets his way. Even when his way is the absolute worst.)

Harry tries not to stare. Really, he does. But he can't help but look at him. The shape of his profile, the way his lips sit together and dip down into his chin. Christ, he's spent the last eight months trying not to pine for him. And now what's he doing? Sitting here staring at him and wishing he could kiss him. Just as he'd done when their relationship was first starting out. “Right back where we started from,” as Niall so lovingly put it on that stupid picture – which Harry forgot to put away before he came over.

Niall must have felt Harry looking at him because he turns to look over at him. Their eyes lock for a moment and Harry's heat skips a beat. He hadn't meant for this to become a thing. Even though it's nothing, really.

Because that's what they are now – nothing. Even worse than before, when Harry was pining for him and Niall couldn't care less. At least they were at each other's throats at that point. Not completely distant. Not old friends who didn't know what the hell to say to each other.

It wasn't that way the last time Niall was here.

_Harry can't bring himself to roll himself off of Niall, so instead he stays on top of him. He props himself up with his elbows, trying not to rest his full weight on top of his boyfriend. He slides his arm upwards a little bit, so he can run his fingers through Niall's hair. It's not in his face at all, but it is a mess on account of him being on his back for the past half hour._

_Niall's breathing hard, his chest rising and falling underneath of Harry. His blue eyes and crystal clear and glassy, looking right into Harry's green ones. Sometimes, when they're like this, Harry's sure Niall can see into his soul._

_For a split second, Harry wonders how he can leave him and get on a plane the next morning to the place Niall hates the most in the world._

“ _I love you,” Niall says through his breaths. He arches his back and lifts his head to meet Harry's mouth. Harry kisses him – he can't not._

“ _Your hair's a fucking mess,” Niall mumbles into their kiss, reaching up and letting his fingers get lost in the mess of curls on top of his head._

“ _Niall...” Harry whispers, pecking at the side of Niall's sweaty face. He can't bear to leave him. When they took a break he meant it to be from the band, but he never meant to take a break from Niall. He just figured whatever they did, they'd do together._

_And tomorrow they're both jetting off in opposite directions. Himself to New York to start shooting on his movie, Niall to Australia with his friends to go on some kind of backpacking adventure._

_He finds himself needing a guarantee that this isn't the end. After all it took for Harry to get him, he can't just let him go._

“ _Niall,” he whispers again._

“ _I'm right here, love,” Niall replies softly, his arms locked around Harry's waist._

“ _Marry me.”_

_The words are out of his mouth before he can stop them. Niall chokes on his breath underneath him, and just like that their tender moment is ruined._

“ _I'm sorry,” Niall sputters out. “What?”_

_Now he takes the opportunity to roll off of Niall. The cool air hits his wet chest and Harry almost shudders because of it. Certainly not because of how stupid he'd been moments ago. “Nothing,” he says, wishing he could take it back._

“ _Harry,” Niall says in the most serious tone he's got. “You know that after tomorrow we won't see each other for months. I'm not even taking my phone with me. Christ.”_

_Yes, Harry's well aware of that. Frankly, he's not sure how Niall will survive not being glued to his screen for hours upon hours. It's probably going to be good for him to get some distance... but still. There's literally going to be no way for him to contact him. Not until he gets back._

“ _I mean, this is great, and I just...” Niall's serious tone is gone now. In it's place is a much more frantic one. “Harry. I can't.”_

“ _I know,” Harry says. What a stupid fucking thing for him to say. Their relationship hasn't even gone public yet – and he's asking these kinds of questions when they've never even talked about such a thing. “It was stupid. In the moment. Just forget it.”_

“ _O...kay.” Niall swallows and keeps looking at Harry. His eyebrows are furrowed and his mouth is turned down. Like he's waiting for an argument to begin. But there's no argument here. There's nothing. And after tonight the bed will be empty. Then he yawns._

“ _Just forget it,” he says again. He shouldn't have said anything. Usually he's more articulate than that. He should have just asked Niall to write him a letter or something. Now everything feels off when it felt perfect two minutes ago. “Big day tomorrow, lets just get some sleep, yeah?”_

_Niall just nods. If he wants to say something else, he doesn't. Instead, he reaches over and turns off the lamp on his side table. He rolls over, facing the wall instead of Harry. And though this is how Niall always sleeps Harry can't help but think it has something to do with this mess._

“ _I love you,” he says, reaching over and rubbing Niall's bare shoulder._

_Niall places his hand on top of Harry's and caresses it for a second. But he doesn't say anything back._

“Oh my god, Harry,” Louis's voice cuts into Harry's thoughts. It's a good thing, because there's a lump in his throat that's rising with every shred of that memory. There's a reason he never lets himself think about it.

Harry looks over at Louis, who's laughing like nothing's happened. And he supposes nothing really has. Louis doesn't know what he's been thinking about – or if he does, he doesn't care.

“That was so you the first time we flew to the states,” he keeps laughing. He points to the screen, referring to Kristin Wiig having a meltdown on the flight in the movie. “Remember?”

Harry rolls his eyes. “It was not.”

“Oh, Harry,” Liam says, leaning over and giving him a sympathetic look. Harry glares at him, because he knows what's coming. Trust Liam to agree with every stupid comment Louis makes. “You've got to admit that it was pretty bad.”

“Boys,” Louis starts to imitate him. “Boys, I think that was a bump.” He leans over and grabs Niall's shoulders and shakes them. “Does everyone have their seatbelt on?!”

Niall just laughs and nods his head along with Louis, looking over at Harry. Harry's keen not to give into them – especially if Niall is going to join in on their ribbing. So he turns his attention back to the screen.

The rest of the boys snicker to themselves, clearly knowing that even if Harry doesn't show it they've gotten to him. Cheryl rolls her eyes and offers Harry a sympathetic look. A real one – not like the one Liam offered him moments ago.

Niall finishes off the last of his beer and stands up, stretching before he walks off to the kitchen to presumably fetch another. Harry makes a conscious effort to keep his eyes glued to the screen because he'd rather not have another awkward moment of eye contact. Or worse, a comment from Louis.

“Save some for the rest of us,” Louis calls after him. Harry sighs a little. At least Louis is quick to shift his focus to another target.

“Lots left,” Niall says simply as he plops himself back down on the couch. “Besides, I need it to keep watching this shite.”

“It's not shite,” Louis protests, imitating Niall's accent. “It's a perfectly good movie.”

“Shite,” Niall repeats, taking a sip of his drink.

“Well, I'm sorry that you're clearly not cultured enough to enjoy a movie about complex female relationships. Dare I say that's a bit sexist, Young Niall.”

Before Niall has a chance to offer a response, Harry snorts. He can't not. It really has nothing to do with the movie, and everything to do with how Niall used to spend his time on tour. His stupid fan groupies all over the place, tossed out of the bus or hotel room when he was done with them.

Niall glares at him. “What?” he snaps.

“Nothing,” Liam says quickly, looking over at Harry. “It's nothing.”

“Right,” Harry agrees, because he might as well. There's no point in turning this into the imminent blowup. They can at least wait until the movie's done for that. “Nothing.”

The tension in the room is thick after that. Harry bounces a glance between Niall and Louis. Niall, who turns his attention back to the screen and continues to nurse his beer. Louis, who looks like he's about to burst out laughing at any moment. His eyes are certainly wide and they connect with Harry's for a moment. Louis cocks his head down towards Niall, as if he's trying to get Harry to say something to him.

Harry just shakes his head slightly and turns away. He's not going to give in to Louis. Not going to offer any sort of apology to Niall, not going to try and act like everything is normal. Despite Louis's attempts, everything isn't just going to magically go back to the way it was.

* * *

Three painful hours and the rest of the case of beer later, both movies that Louis forced the five of them to sit through are over.

Cheryl stands up first, glancing down at Liam. “I suppose we'll be off then”

For the first time this evening, Niall's relieved. No more sitting there awkwardly, trying to make himself feel better about where he is by drinking. It's not really helping, and at this point he's lost count of how many he's had. Good thing he's not driving.

He glances over at Harry, who's still sat in his chair. Doesn't look like he's going to make any move to stand up and see them off either. That's fine, he figures. It's better this way. Besides, he's not stupid. He knows that Harry didn't want them to come over. This entire get together was Louis's plan.

They say a quick goodbye, exchange all sorts of pleasantries and they're off. Niall follows Cheryl and Liam outside and the cool air hits his lungs, contrasting the warmth of all the alcohol inside him.

“Liam,” he says quickly. “I'm just gonna walk home.”

Liam gives him a look. The same sort of look he gave him when he suggested the same thing when they were in New York the first time. Which turned out to be a really terrible idea considering they got completely mobbed. “Are you mad? You're not walking home.”

He just waves Liam off. He's walked around London by himself dozens of times. Even taken the tube a few. It's fine. It's dark and it's going to take him only about half an hour. Plus he figures the cool air will do him some good, because his head's spinning and he probably shouldn't have drank so much.

“It's fine. I promise it's fine.”

Liam keeps eyeing him like he's not sure if he's going to allow this. Cheryl tugs on his sleeve a little. “Come on, Liam,” she says. “He's fine. He's not going to get mobbed in Kensington,” she laughs.

Liam sighs. “Yeah, alright. Call me if you get into trouble though.”

Niall gives him a slight nod and a wave before he walks off. “Night.”

He goes through the gate and starts to walk briskly down the street. All of the houses and complexes around here look the same. He's never noticed how much he hated that until now. No wonder he never bothered to buy a house in Kensington – he never even looked. In fact, when he was browsing the market in London the only place he looked was Chelsea. Partially because it was close to Stamford Bridge, partially because it was a nicer neighbourhood that still had some character. It's not like he bought a cheap house – certainly not.

But Jesus, it didn't look like a cookie cutter McMansion. As McMansion as London gets, anyway.

He picks up the pace, turning the corner. The river is close by now, and once he gets over the bridge he'll feel better. He'll back back in his home turf – no more of this posh Kensington life.

It's funny how it never bothered him this much before. Probably because when he was over there he and Harry never spent much time wandering around the area. They stayed confined within the walls of his house.

Even the ground looks nicer. The cobblestone sidewalk is cleaner than it is in Chelsea, like it was perfectly planned out and landscaped. He scoffs, kicking a stray rock with his shoe. He's not sure who he's mad at. Maybe Louis for orchestrating this whole thing. Maybe Harry for not stopping it (though knowing Louis, he wouldn't have been able to anyway.) Maybe himself for freaking out, going on his trip and then never contacting Harry again.

He glances up at the bridge and bites his lip. Then he glances over at the pub on the water. Probably a bad idea. He probably shouldn't go have another drink. But he's starting to sober up and it's not exactly doing great things for his thoughts.

Just one more pint he promises himself as he steps inside. Just one more to help ease his mind and get him home and to sleep without another stupid thought about Harry.

“Two Abbots,” he says, holding his fingers up to the bartender. Okay, two more.

Once he gets his drinks he slides over to the corner of the bar, keeping his head down so no one notices who he is. Because if he's seen drinking his sorrows away by himself in a pub, his solo career will be over before it really begins. Not like he has to worry – no one's paying him any attention anyway, but he knows full well how all that can change in a split second. Should have worn his hat he thinks, then reconsiders. What was supposed to be a disguise quickly became his signature identifier.

He takes a swig of his first pint, downing a third of it with ease.

What good would contacting Harry have been? Two months on a holiday and when he got back to London Harry was still in New York anyway. There was no way he was going to go over there. There was no reason for him to, and he didn't need the speculation. No one knew about his relationship with Harry – no one in the public, anyway. The last thing he needed was for that to get out. If they have to take this time off, the only thing Niall's grateful for is the time away from the spotlight.

Another third of his first pint gone, and if he told himself he was feeling better he'd be lying.

Going to New York would have had no point and texting Harry would have had no point. Not after their stupid last night. Why'd Harry have to go and complicate everything like that? Married, after deciding they were all going to take some time apart. That's rich, Niall thinks with a bitter laugh.

He downs the rest of his first pint and takes a short sip of the second. Now he's starting to feel a bit better. Or a bit more clouded, anyway.

He and Harry never even discussed anything like that before. It was enough that they got together in the first place. After all, neither of them had any sort of steady relationship while they were in the band. As much as Harry liked to be on his high horse about not having as many one night stands, he still didn't commit to anyone.

Halfway done that second pint and Niall contemplates ordering another. Instead he puts his head in his hands.

Harry was the only person he'd ever had a real connection with and he just took off and threw it all away because he was scared. Maybe not scared of where they were headed together, but scared of anything the future held. Whether they were actually going to tour again, or if this was the end and he was just too naive to admit it to himself.

If he's being honest, he's still not sure.

He finishes the last of his pint and slides off the stool, stumbling a little bit. If he's going to have any hope of fixing this, he's got to talk to Harry and try to sort it out.

He walks out of the bar, turning around and walking back over the perfectly placed cobblestone instead over going over the bridge. He tries to walk faster, but his hands are shoved into his pockets and he's not being as graceful as he should be for a brisk walk. So he takes it slow, one step at a time until he's standing outside Harry's gate again.

He takes in a deep breath and lets it out again, the fog of it disappearing into the night. This time, the cold air doesn't affect him as he shoves his finger onto the buzzer over and over again until Harry answers.

* * *

Harry rolls over in bed, a noise pulling him out of his sleep. It takes him a second to realise what it is and he mutters a couple curse words while slipping on a robe. If this is Louis again he's going to kill him.

“Yeah,” he says, his voice low and thick with sleep as he speaks into the intercom.

“Harry.”

Harry blinks a couple times. Now this, he certainly didn't expect. Though he probably should have. It's not exactly out of character.

“Niall?” he asks cautiously, even though there's no doubt it's him.

“Harry,” Niall says, desperation apparent in his voice. “Let me in.”

Harry sighs. Can't he just go back to bed? Why's he got to deal with this as soon as he's back in London? Maybe he should have just stayed in LA and avoided all this shit. But of course he's not going to do that. He's not going to leave Niall stranded outside his house at one in the morning when it's cold and he's probably drunk.

So he hits the buzzer and lets Niall in. Then he goes and opens the front door and waits.

Just as Harry suspected, he's not even walking straight. He leans against the doorframe as he watches him stumble over the sidewalk and up the steps.

Niall doesn't even give him a chance to say anything. He just rushes up the three steps towards Harry, nearly tripping over his feet. He looks up at him and crashes his face into Harry's, narrowly pressing their lips together.

Without another thought, Harry pulls Niall inside and shoves the door closed. Thank god they're on his property so he can't be papped. That's the last thing that their relationship needs right now.

It seems Niall takes this as an invitation, because he shoves Harry against the wall. Amidst sloppy kisses, he tugs at Harry's robe.

“Niall,” Harry says softly, pressing his hands against his chest.

“Mmph,” is all that comes out of Niall's mouth. It's really just a muffled grunt, because now he's moved on to kissing Harry's neck.

“Niall,” Harry says. He's more forceful this time as he takes hold of Niall's arms and pushes them away from him. “Stop.”

Niall does as he says, pulling away and looking up at him. His face is flushed and his eyes are only half open. If he didn't already know, Harry wouldn't be able to tell the colour of them. He's obviously wrecked. Drunk out of his mind on account of drinking most of the case of beer by himself and whatever else he probably had at some pub he went by.

“How much have you had to drink?” he asks, even though it's moot.

Niall shrugs and averts his gaze from Harry.

“Yeah, a lot,” Harry mutters, pulling at Niall's arm. “Come on.”

He pulls Niall upstairs, past his own bedroom and into a spare room. Niall follows behind him, laying down on the bed once he's inside.

“Harry,” Niall moans, face half sunk into the fluffy, new pillow. “I'm sorry.”

“Sleep it off,” is all Harry says as he leaves the room. He closes the door behind himself and leans back against it. It doesn't matter whether Niall's sorry for this particular mess or for everything that came before it. Fixing whatever broke between them isn't going to be as easy as a drunken apology.

He contemplates getting Niall a glass of water, but decides not to. He's probably already asleep anyway. As far as Harry's concerned, Niall deserves the hangover he's undoubtedly going to have the next morning.

* * *

Niall wakes up the next morning and the first thing he notices is the sun streaming into the room. It burns and he rolls over to shield his face in his pillow. Which is when he realises that this isn't his pillow at all. He rolls onto his side and glances around. The perfectly placed vintage wallpaper and new-looking window pane give it away instantly.

Harry's house.

He scratches his chest and looks down. He's still wearing the clothes from the night before. And he's in an extra bedroom, not Harry's room. And Harry's nowhere is sight. So nothing happened.

But judging by his pounding head and that he's woken up here instead of in his own bed, something must have happened. The question is what, and how serious is it, and most importantly, where the hell is Harry?

He almost doesn't want to get up and find out. Rubbing his face, he tries to recall what happened the night before.

He definitely remembers watching stupid movies and drinking a lot. Harry made a stupid comment at one point which sent him back into the kitchen for another beer, cursing Louis all the while.

Niall shakes his head, as if that'll help some of the shards of the night before fall into place. He left with Liam and Cheryl. No, actually, he didn't. He opted to walk home so he could burn off some steam from the evening. And he walked by a pub and...

Oh. Well that's where the trouble started. And that's probably how he ended up here. He vaguely remembers some kissing. But that can't have happened. Because if it did he'd be in Harry's bed, not here by himself. Must've dreamt that part.

So then what the hell happened? Maybe he passed out and Harry carried him up here. But that doesn't make sense either. He can't have been that drunk.

He doesn't have any more time to think about it, because the door opes and in walks Harry. He looks like he's already showered, hair damp and wearing fresh clothes. He's also holding a glass of water, which if it's possible, is even more enticing than Harry is.

“Mornin',” Niall says, reaching out. “Thanks. Parched.”

“I bet you are,” Harry snaps, taking a sip of the water and not moving from his position from inside the doorframe. “It's not for you.”

Niall rolls his eyes. Things are awkward, sure, but they can't possibly be this bad. He doesn't think so at least. “Come on, Harry,” he laughs. “Give me some of that.”

Harry just stares at him for a second before dipping his fingers into the glass and flicking them at Niall.

“Hey! What the fuck?!” Niall wipes his face with his hand and then glares at Harry. “What did you do that for?!”

“Oh, I'm sorry,” Harry says, sauntering further into the room until he's standing beside the bed. “Did that annoy you? Here,” he hands the glass to Niall, “drink the bloody water.”

Niall takes it from him, but that doesn't stop him from looking annoyed as he drinks the rest of it in one go. What in the hell did he do to deserve this? He can't even remember the last time Harry was this upset with him. But it was probably sometime in between their fling and their relationship.

“Do you remember what happened last night?” Harry's arms are crossed over his chest and his lips are pressed together in a thin line.

“Uh,” Niall says, trying not to laugh. It really shouldn't be funny, but it sort of is. Out of all the ways he thought he'd start speaking to Harry again this wasn't at the top of the list. “Was just trying to figure that out.”

“Well, I suppose you went home or to a pub and kept on drinking. Then decided to come back for whatever reason.”

“Obviously,” Niall mutters, but he keeps listening because it's sort of freaking him out that there's this blank space inside his brain.

“You showed up here and kept on with the buzzer until I answered.”

“Wouldn't have to do that if you lived in a normal house like a normal person.” He's supposed to be listening. But he can't help making that comment.

Harry grits his teeth and narrows his eyes. But he continues. “I let you in because you sounded like a fucking mess out there and you obviously weren't going to leave. And do you remember what you did as soon as I opened the door?”

Niall shakes his head. He knows better than to try and make a comment now. Plus that water really isn't sitting well.

“Does pushing me against the wall and kissing me ring any bells?”

Oh Christ. So it wasn't just a dream. Still doesn't explain why he's segregated in a separate room rather than Harry's. Harry, who looks more irritated by the second. Niall just runs a hand through his hair. It seems to get dirty a lot quicker now that he's not bleaching the hell out of it.

“Thought you were going to show up here for a quick fuck, I suppose?”

“Guessin' you weren't interested,” Niall says, because he's not going to sit here and let Harry lecture him. He doesn't even remember showing up here, much less what his intentions were. Plus he was drunk. He probably just did what he always did when he saw Harry. His inebriated self didn't care that they weren't exactly speaking.

“Not really,” Harry says with a sarcastic tinge hanging on his voice. “But I suppose it's not surprising, is it? You haven't changed at all.”

Niall draws in a deep breath. It's too early and he's too hungover for this shit. He'd get up and leave but he's sort of worried that if he does, he'll throw up all over Harry's floor. He still contemplates it though. Because the hardwood floor in this place is far too nice and needs a bit of scuff.

“Still the same as you ever were. Just looking to get off whenever you want, not caring who you hurt in the process.”

Churning stomach or not, Niall stands up and glares at Harry. “Really? You're going to throw that in my face? We were together for two years, Harry. Does that mean anything to you?”

“Does it mean anything to _you?”_ Harry shoots back, not backing down even though Niall's getting right in his face. “Clearly it didn't.”

“Clearly it did,” he spits out, mocking Harry's stupid posh way of speaking. His hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans and he's doing everything he can to keep the contents of his stomach down. “Since the last person I got off with is you.”

Harry snorts and rolls his eyes. He glances around the room and Niall sincerely hopes that he's hurt him. Haven't changed a bit – what a load of rubbish. Actually, he's probably changed too much on account of Harry. Time to throw out all those stupid pairs of ankle boots in his closet.

He's on a bit of a roll now, so he keeps going. “Oh and by the way, what kind of a person just dumps a proposal on someone without ever having discussed it before?”

Now Harry's looking at him again. Still looks pissed off though. “It wasn't a proposal,” he says.

“Oh, really?” Niall's voice goes up an octave in disbelief. “What would you call it, then? Askin' me that?”

Harry swallows and rubs his lips together. Niall crosses his arms over his chest, feeling quite accomplished. For once in his life, he's rendered Harry speechless. “That's not even what this is about,” he finally says.

“No, of course it's not. Poor Harry, Nialler never texted him back after his trip,” he wines, sarcasm dripping in his voice. “I reckon when you complained to Gemma about it that you left out what you did and made me look like the bad guy.”

“You just let our relationship die, Niall.” Harry's voice is softer now. Even though that's what Niall wanted, it doesn't make him feel better. It just makes him feel sick in an entirely new way.

“Only 'cause you killed it,” Niall replies, turning on the heels of his stupid boots and pushing past Harry. “I'm through with this,” he says, walking briskly down the stairs.

“Bye Niall!” He hears Harry calling after him, but he doesn't bother to look back. “See you again when you've had too much to drink!”

* * *

Niall fiddles around with the dials on his amp. In the week since his argument with Harry he hasn't spoken to anyone. Certainly not Harry. Not Louis, who hasn't bothered to contact him either. Probably too busy with his real life to mess around with anyone else's. Not Liam, who's always busy with Cheryl anyway. Not even his mum.

Shit, his mum. She was hoping he'd come visit her now that he was back home from the states.

He lets his guitar hang off of his shoulders as he pulls out his phone. He stares down at it. Before, he had four best friends he could choose from to ring if he was going through something like this. Now, he's just got one ex-boyfriend, two friends who've got more important things going on and...

He scrolls down to the bottom of his contacts.

_They're sat in a hotel room in Manila. It's bright and sunny outside, but inside it's the complete opposite. If life could turn black and white, this would be the day._

“ _What do you mean, 'he's left?'” Louis asks, anger bubbling up in his voice. He's sitting on the edge of one of the beds and looking up at Paul eagerly for answers._

_Paul sighs and looks at the four of them before continuing. “I mean he's left.”_

“ _Left like, he's gone home for a couple of days or left like...” Liam trails off._

“ _For god sakes, Liam,” Harry sighs, leaning back on the palms of his hands. “What do you think 'left the band' means?”_

“ _He can't,” Niall says, as if it's obvious. They signed a contract. A huge one, in fact. Five albums, five boys. That's all there is to it._

“ _I think he just did,” Louis says, that harsh tone getting more and more apparent with every word._

_Harry intertwines his hand with Niall's. Even though all of this – whatever this is – they've still got each other. And they're confident that's not going to change.“What do we do now?” He asks, looking around at the rest of them._

_As if any of them have the answer to that._

Niall keeps staring at his phone. He sort of wonders what would happen if he were to call him. Just give him a ring and when Zayn answers, just start to cry and spill his guts about everything that's happened and everything that hasn't.

He'd probably just laugh and say it wasn't his problem anymore and hang up.

So Niall lets that fleeting thought go and calls his mum. It rings three times before she finally picks up.

“Well hello there,” she says with a laugh.

“I'm coming home,” he says quickly, cutting her off. “Tonight.” Well, maybe. He doesn't even have a plane ticket yet. But he'll sort that out later.

“What? Tonight? When?”

Yeah, he'll figure that out in a bit. “Dunno. But I'm packing now and going to the airport in ten minutes.” He bends down and unplugs his guitar from the amp and dashes off to his bedroom.

“Are you alright?” She asks him softly, her tone changing from the light one from earlier. Somehow, she always knows.

But Niall's not about to spill it all over the phone. He just needs to go home and be someone else for a while. Before all this fame bullshit started. “Yeh. Just comin' home.”

She sighs and she probably doesn't believe him, but Niall doesn't care. “Alright. Call me if you need a ride from the airport.”

A ride from the airport! He's already starting to feel normal again. “Yeh. Probably will. I'll text you my flight.”

And with that he hangs up and tosses his phone onto his bed. He pulls his guitar off and places it in the corner. Just gonna back enough clothes for a few days. No guitar, no lyric journal, nothing. Leave it all behind and chill out for a bit.

* * *

“You're an idiot.”

Harry narrows his eyes at his sister, who's sitting across from him in his kitchen. There's a pot of tea in between the two of them – some jasmine type that Gemma likes. Harry likes it too, but she knows a lot more about tea than he does. And evidently, she knows a lot more about his relationships too.

“Really?” Harry asks, taking a sip of his tea and letting the warmth of it trickle down his throat before continuing. “Because I'm not the one who showed up here pissed out of my mind.”

“Sorry,” Gemma says, still smiling over her mug. “I take it back. You're both idiots.”

Harry takes another sip of tea but he doesn't say anything. Why bother? Gemma's just going to tell him he's an idiot again anyway. For an older sister, she certainly isn't as wise as she likes to make herself out to be.

“It doesn't make sense,” she goes on, tracing the rim of her mug with her finger. Perfectly manicured finger, by the way. Harry's going to have to go with her to her nail place one of these days. “As far as I recall, at Christmas the two of you were fine. You showed up for dinner and then left right away... presumably because you couldn't get enough of each other.”

“You don't know that.”

“Am I wrong?”

Harry sighs. She isn't. Maybe she is a bit wise. But just a bit.

“And then you both go off and do your own thing, which is good, by the way,” she stresses, giving Harry a look. “And then... never speak to each other again? That doesn't make sense. There's something you're not telling me.”

Harry looks down into his half-finished mug of tea and promptly fills it back up. He just watches as the bits of tea leaves float around and then slowly sink to the bottom.

“I can't help you if you don't tell me the whole story.”

“He thinks I proposed to him,” Harry mutters. It embarrasses him just thinking about it.

“I'm sorry, what?” Gemma asks, bursting into laughter.

“Yeah, that's what he said,” Harry says, rolling his eyes and trying to get her to stop laughing. It doesn't work.

“Why would he think that?”

Harry sighs. He wanted to avoid telling her this bit. Because it's stupid and it meant nothing. “Because I asked him to marry me.”

Gemma laughs again, just as Harry thought she would. “Oh, well that Niall always did read too much into things,” she says sarcastically before getting a bit more serious. “Come on, Harry. What were you thinking?”

“I wasn't thinking, Gem.” He takes another sip of his tea. Why'd he even invite her over here? “Anyway, after that we both left and haven't spoken since. Not really.”

“So you're in a stalemate now,” she says thoughtfully. “Because you asked, he said no, and the both of you have too much pride to try and solve it.”

“We were also apart for months,” Harry says, as if that makes it better. He plays with his hair a little bit – which is weird. It's always much shorter than he expects it to be. He's got to start growing it out again. “I just... maybe we can't be together unless we're in the band.”

“Well that's stupid,” Gemma says without hesitation. “Of course you can.”

“Not together right now,” Harry points out.

“Because you're both idiots.”

Harry doesn't say anything more about it. Just takes a sip of his tea and thinks about everything Gemma said. She's probably right – he knows she is. But it's not like he can just ring Niall now and everything will go back to normal. Like it or not, their stubbornness has brought them right back to where they started. Back to not knowing what to say to each other after having said too much.

* * *

Niall packed for three days and he's been in Ireland for two weeks and counting.

Whatever Harry's doing, he doesn't care. He's probably gone back to LA to shoot another movie. Maybe New York. He's certain he's not still in London – he never stays there for long.

Now he's sat in his mum's kitchen, nursing a cup of tea while she cleans up after dinner. He hasn't had the heart to tell her that he's switched to coffee since he can never find good tea in the states. And as much as he hates to admit it, he spends a lot of time there too. Like Harry, he's never in London for too long either.

Maura pats him on the head after she finishes wiping down the counter. Two weeks he's been here and she hasn't pressed him at all as to why. Instead she just lets him enjoy his extended visit.

His sister-in-law, on the other hand...

“All right, Niall,” Denise says, walking back into the kitchen as soon as Maura leaves it. Niall's willing to bet that she's been standing there waiting this whole time.

“What?” he asks, taking a sip of his tea. God, if he could have his mum travel with him everywhere he went and personally make him tea every day that'd be optimal. Too bad she'd laugh him out of her house if he ever suggested that.

“What are you doing here?”

“It's my mum's house,” he says, not really wanting to get into it with her. He hasn't come here to hash it out. It's pretty clear he's come here to run away. “What're _you_ doing here?”

“Cheeky, Young Niall,” she laughs. Niall glares at her, the one thing Denise had to pick up from her limited time around the group was Louis's stupid nickname for him. “Stop avoiding my question. You're not just here for a visit. You never stay this long. You've always got something on the go. Aren't you supposed to be recording an album?”

Niall shrugs. He should probably get back to that at some point. And he will – just as soon as London stops reminding him of everything he left behind. “I suppose.”

“So what's going on then? Is it the album?”

“Nope.” Maybe some problems with the album, but that's not the root of it all.

“The group?” she presses.

Niall shakes his head. She's getting warmer though.

“Harry?” she asks gently because she clearly knows she's hit the nail on the head.

He's silent. How's he supposed to answer that when he doesn't even know where to begin? They were together and now they aren't. The end.

Denise leans in closer to him. “What's going on with you guys?”

Niall laughs. That's a loaded question if he ever heard one. But he supposes rather than getting introspective he can just blame the whole thing on Harry. It's not like he's talking to Louis and Liam – this probably won't get back to Harry. “Asked me to marry him.”

“Oh!” Denise clasps her hands over her mouth and her eyes widen with visible glee. “And?” she asks quickly, clearly missing the entire point.

“Well,” he starts, trying not to sound too bitter because this clearly isn't the answer she's hoping for. “I've been here for two weeks by myself and I haven't said a word about him. So what do you think?”

“Oh.” She pouts, and Niall instantly feels bad. So much for not sounding bitter. “So he asked, you turned him down and here you are.”

Niall sighs. He's going to have to tell her the whole bloody thing now and she's going to tell him how stupid he is. That's why he avoided telling this story in the first place. “Not exactly. He asked, I said no, he said he wasn't serious and then I went backpacking in Australia with the boys for two months.”

“Wait.” Denise holds up her hand like she's thinking back. “You went on your backpacking self-discovery trip like a year ago.”

“Yeh. And it wasn't a self-discovery trip.”

“Obviously not.” She chews at her lip. “So that's it then?”

Niall shrugs. “Suppose so. Never talked again after that.” He figures he can leave out their drunken argument. It's just a symptom of this whole mess anyway.

She keeps pouting and Niall doesn't really get why. It's not like she's splitting up with Greg or anything. It's just him and Harry – she's seen the two of them together a total of twice.

“But you guys were so happy,” she said sympathetically.

“Yeh. We were,” he stresses. “And now we're not.”

“Oh,” she says for the hundredth time. Then she gets up out of her chair and wraps her arms around Niall, which he just finds awkward. But he endures it all the same. “I'm sorry,” she says. “You'll find someone so much better than him.”

“Thanks,” Niall replies, but it falls flat. He really doesn't believe that at all.

* * *

As it turns out, a project is exactly what Niall needed to take his mind off of everything. After returning to London he kept on with his album. According to his plans, he'll have an album ready to release in the spring and he'll tour it in the summer.

To hell with the others. If they're not interested in touring any time soon, he'll do it himself. He doesn't need them anyway.

Those are his exact thoughts as he stuffs clothes into his old tour suitcase. It's been about a month since he returned from Ireland, and he still hasn't spoken to Harry. Doesn't even know where he's at. Doesn't care either.

That's a lie – but he's trying not to care. Which counts for something, he figures.

He's spoken to Louis a bit – but not much. He's working on solo music too. He's also gone back to Doncaster to be with his family. It seems the situation with his mum is getting worse by the day. So Niall keeps his distance, letting Louis reach out to him when he wants to.

He's also talked to Liam a bit as well, but less so than Louis. Seems he's been busy with his own solo work these days. And when he's not working on that he's still busy as ever with Cheryl.

And Zayn, Niall thinks bitterly, because he can't not. No matter how much he tries not to, Zayn's still in the back of his mind when he starts to think about the band. Even more so now, since he's on his way to perform at the American Music Awards and Zayn's going to be there.

His phone dings with a text on his desk, and Niall glances over at it. Probably not important, he'll just look at it later. He throws another couple of t-shirts into his suitcase, but his phone dings again.

It's Liam.

_Nialler, got something to tell u_

_call me its important._

Niall rolls his eyes. Can't Liam just text him whatever it is? He hates having to deal with phone calls when he doesn't have to. If he had his way, he'd only allot one phone call a month. And it'd be for his mum.

But of course he calls Liam back.

“This better be good, Payno.”

“Yes, I know you're a big celebrity now. Off to the awards this weekend.”

“Just packin' now. What's goin' on?”

“Look, I wanted to tell you first. Before you found out some other way.” Liam suddenly sounds serious. It's not exactly out of character for him, but it worries Niall all the same. Instantly his mind jumps to Harry. Did something happen to him? Maybe he- “Cheryl's pregnant.”

Niall almost drops his phone. His mouth hangs open stupidly and he's quite glad he's alone in his house so no one can see him.

“I...” he starts, not really sure what to say. “That's, great?” he tries. Because Liam sounds excited about it. But Liam's the same age as he is and if he found out he knocked someone up he'd probably be running for the hills. Not like that was likely to happen anytime soon, but still. Plus when Louis told them Briana was pregnant he followed it with a stream of cuss words.

“Yeah, it is.” Niall can practically hear him grinning through the phone.

“So when's the wedding then?” he laughs.

“No wedding,” Liam clarifies. “Not worrying about that. Because we're mature adults.”

“Uh huh,” Niall says, choosing to ignore Liam's dig at him. However lighthearted it was. He sort of wants to ask Liam if the baby was planned, considering they're such mature adults, but he decides against it. “Well, that's great then.”

“Said that already,” Liam laughs.

“Right, well I don't know what else to say,” Niall says honestly. He looks back over at his suitcase. Probably should continue packing that and head off to the airport. “Look, Liam, I gotta go. Congrats, buddy.”

“Yeah, that's fine. We'll talk soon. Smash it at the awards, Neil.”

Niall laughs. “Yeah, thanks.”

He tosses his phone onto his bed and he stares at it. Everyone around him is starting to grow up, and he's not quite sure how he feels about it. Part of him wants to ring up Harry and discuss this – but knowing Harry now he'd just say he was really happy for Liam and they shouldn't be so judgmental and immature.

Niall scoffs at his imaginary conversation with Harry. Harry could be just as judgmental as him, he's just better at hiding it is all.

He suppresses that urge to ring Harry and zips up his suitcase. Hasn't got time for this shit – it's time to go to America and prove to everyone that he can do this all on his own.

* * *

Harry stares down at his phone. It still shows the end of his call with Liam for a moment before going back to the home screen.

This was the absolute last thing he expected to be on the other end. Hell, another drunken call from Niall would have been more expected than this. Coming from Liam's phone, even.

He swallows and tosses his phone down onto his kitchen counter. Then he stares at the half-mixed smoothie sitting in his blender. At least Liam sounded happy. Elated, actually. Which almost makes this whole thing worse.

They're all growing up and he's standing in his kitchen drinking fucking kale. Whatever happened to them being young and messing around? If Niall was here, he'd be thinking the same thing. Harry's sure of it, even if he doesn't like it. They'd both be in shock, but they'd be in shock together.

“ _Fuck, fuck, fuck...” Louis paces around his hotel room, running a hand through his hair and tugging at it slightly._

_Emergency band meeting. Only two others have been called in the nearly five years they've been a group. And Louis has never called one before. Liam's sitting on the bed looking concerned. Harry's standing with Niall with his eyebrows furrowed and Niall's biting his lip. He looks like he's about to laugh and Harry knows it's because he's not sure what else to do. Awkward laughter is just his default._

“ _What're you going to do?” Liam asks, still sitting on the bed with his hands laced together. He looks up at Louis._

“ _I don't know, Liam,” Louis snaps, turning around to face the three of them. “That's why you lot are here. To help me figure that out.”_

_The three of them stay silent. Mostly. Niall shuffles his feet and Harry nudges him. He's never been good at serious situations and his awkwardness almost makes them worse._

“ _Well?” Louis presses, his voice desperate and stressed. “What would you do?!”_

_Liam just sighs, but for the first time in his life he doesn't offer any advice._

“ _I mean,” Niall starts, and Harry looks down at him. “It's not really an issue for us,” he says, waving a hand between himself and Harry. Then he giggles a bit. Harry nudges him again, but he can't help cracking a smile._

“ _Oh,” Louis snaps again, glaring at the two of them. “Right, I forgot. Not an issue for the two of you. Must be nice. Could have just as easily been you, you know.” He shoves a finger in Niall's chest._

_Niall just shrugs, not wiping the smirk off his face. Harry takes that opportunity to drape his arm around him._

“ _Just do what we do then,” Niall says, actually shifting to a slightly more serious tone. “Just don't say anything.”_

_Louis raises an eyebrow, but he keeps listening._

“ _Don't have to tell anyone anything. Not anyone's business but yours.” Niall shrugs again, looking back up at Harry._

_Harry nods in agreement. Not like Niall's wrong. No one's found out about the two of them._

Harry sighs. Louis fretting over Briana's pregnancy was just over a year ago and it seems so much longer than that. Now all of a sudden Liam's calling them up with baby news and he's not soliciting advice on how to keep it quiet?

Of course, the story did eventually did get out. But Niall's advice wasn't bad at the time. And to his credit, it still worked for the two of them. Their relationship, however dead it is, is still unknown to the public.

He looks down at his phone and briefly considers texting Niall. Just to comment on how weird all of this is.

He doesn't, of course. There's no point. So he just shakes his head and holds one hand on the top of his blender before pressing the start button.

* * *

Camera flashes almost blind Niall as he steps out of the limo onto the red carpet at the American Music Awards.

 _  
_ He almost forgot how draining all of this is. He swallows and plasters a smile on his face. Better get used to it, since he's back on tour in a week or so. Not like it's anything big, just a few Jingle Ball shows around America. But at least he's not going to be sitting around his house doing nothing.

There's always fans on the sidelines, of course. He smiles and waves at them as he walks along. Every so often he glances over his shoulder looking for one of the others before realising he's alone.

Not even Harry's there with him. Which he's well aware of but it's weird. If anyone, it feels like he should be the one there.

Instead, Niall glances through the crowd and his chest tightens when he sees Zayn. He's about twenty feet away, and there's a sea of people between them, but it's still weird. Zayn doesn't even seem to notice him, which actually makes it weirder if that's possible.

He sort of wants to walk over there, slap Zayn on the back and laugh like nothing's happened. Zayn probably wouldn't shove him away. But he probably wouldn't be happy to see him either.

He takes a step towards Zayn, because a forced encounter with him is better than just walking along by himself. But he gets stopped by someone shoving a microphone in his face.

Outwardly he smiles and laughs and does all the things that are expected of him. Inside, he's dying. It looks the same, but it's not. And it won't be until he's back with the others. Because being back with just Harry is a lost cause at this point.

He glances over to where Zayn was a couple minutes ago. He's gone now – nowhere in sight. And just like that, Niall keeps walking along the red carpet by himself.

* * *

It's rare that Harry channel surfs instead of watching something on Netflix, but he's all caught up on Narcos and there's nothing else that piques his interest at the moment.

He looks out the window. If there's one thing he dislikes about California, it's that the weather is always the same. Forget seasons, they barely even have weather. It's almost always a constant sunny, twenty-five degrees outside. Once in a while it rains.

He's not much of a beach person, so that's out. Not like he'd go by himself anyway. He could go for a walk, he supposes. But he doesn't move, finally landing on an old episode of Friends. He half watches it and half plays with his phone.

He doesn't even notice it go to commercial as he's flipping through some photos Gemma's posted on Facebook.

“ _Don't miss the Capital FM Jingle Ball featuring Bruno Mars, The Chainsmokers, Charlie Puth...”_

Harry keeps flipping through pictures of Gemma's holiday. Maybe he should take a trip too. Before things get really busy with his movie promotion and album work.

“ _Also featuring a special guest performance by Niall Horan.”_

Harry snaps his head up to stare at the telly. A promotional shot of Niall is splashed there, but after half a second it's gone. It's replaced with generic shots of a screaming crowd, but Harry's mind is still stuck on it.

He looks back down at his phone. How did he not know about this? Well, that's easy. It's not like Niall would tell him. But Liam or Louis has got to know about it. Niall wouldn't just go on fucking tour without mentioning it to _somebody._

He shoots Louis a text. His fingers type frantically, but thankfully all that goes through are a couple words. _He's touring?!_

Louis texts him back almost immediately, thank god. _Loads of people are touring. You'll have to be more specific._

Harry rolls his eyes. He could send back a snarky comment, but he actually wants to get information out of Louis so he refrains. _Niall_ is all he sends back.

_Oh. Yes. Doing a few holiday shows._

Harry just stares down at his phone. No snarky comment back from Louis, either. Things must be getting really bad with his mum, and he instantly feels bad for dumping his drama on him.

Or maybe Louis is welcoming the distraction, because another text comes through.

_He's quite excited about it, actually._

Harry wonders how true that is. It's probably what Louis thinks, because it's what Niall would have told him. All he would have done was laughed about how fun it was going to be and how great it would be to be back on stage.

Harry knows better though. Niall must be feeling weird about doing this by himself. He's got to be, doesn't he? He doesn't have time to dwell on it, because his phone buzzes again.

_I'd go to see him but I can't leave the family here right now._

_Right. Send my love to everyone._ Harry sends back. He flips his phone around in his hands a few times before looking down at it. Then he considers Louis's comment. Maybe Louis can't go see Niall perform, but Harry figures there's no reason he can't.

He could probably get into the show easily, but then Niall would know he was there. And he doesn't really want to turn this into anything. He goes to the Ticketmaster website and stares down at it. He doesn't even have a bloody account. Never needed one before this.

But it takes about a minute to create one and before long he's scrolling through the list of Jingle Ball shows. Niall's not performing at all of them, but he's at a few. And most of them are in California. He pulls up seats for the first show and laughs to himself. Clearly the advert wasn't needed at all – there's hardly anything left.

But one seat at the back is all he needs. He'll get a hat and some colour contacts and a jumper and no one will be the wiser. It's a horrible plan – he knows that. But that doesn't stop him from buying the ticket.

He has to laugh at himself. He's just like a teenage girl buying a ticket for one of their shows. It doesn't matter. He smiles down at his phone when he sees the notification come through for the confirmation email. In a week he'll get to see Niall in his element again.

Even if he's up in the nosebleeds instead of on the sidelines.

* * *

He's done this a million times. Through X Factor to stadiums and everything in between. Even done talk shows on his own.

But nothing quite like an actual show with actual fans all by his actual solo self.

The lights are bright and despite what he's sung in the past, they're blinding. He can't see anything out into the crowd. That's probably a good thing, because he has no one to look around at for reassurance. No one to make a face or laugh with. And if he screws it up, there's no one to back him up or bail him out.

Still he sits down on the stool and strums at the guitar, like he's done a million times before.

Harry's on the edge of his seat. He's sat through two hours before this filled with worry that someone's going to recognize him and the whole place is going to turn into a mob scene. Worse, this whole thing would be completely ruined and Niall will never forgive him for it.

Luckily, his outfit is working. He probably looks odd, sitting here with a baseball cap and his hood up. He's sweating like mad, but it's better than being noticed.

He can't even see Niall from where he's sitting – he's got to watch the screen to get any sort of look at his face. Which is fine. He'd rather this than being close to the front. Not that Niall would be able to see him on account of the stage lights anyway.

“ _Waking up to kiss you and nobody's there...”_

Harry gulps as Niall starts to sing. He glances up at the screen again, watching as Niall licks his lips in between lyrics, keeping his eyes closed all the while. It's just his voice and the guitar. There's no backing track. Not like there was in the early days.

As he gets to the chorus, Harry can hardly hear him. The entire crowd is singing along with him.

And Niall can only hear the sound of his own voice on account of his in-ears. He can still faintly hear the crowd though, and he loosens up a little. Thank god they know the lyrics and thank god someone cares that he's there. He briefly opens his eyes.

“ _If the whole world was watching, I'd still dance with you...”_

Harry mouths along to the lyrics with the rest of the crowd. He swallows another lump in his throat as he watches Niall open his eyes. They're a glassy blue – but only for a second before they're closed again.

“ _And I know that it's wrong, that I can't move on...”_ Niall sings, hoping the lump in his throat isn't affecting his voice too much. _“But there's something 'bout you...”_

Harry bites the inside of his cheek. There's no more singing along for him. If he dares to open his mouth he'll probably choke out a sob. And then everyone around him will be looking and his cover will be blown.

His teeth are cutting into his skin but he doesn't care. He taps his foot along to the beat of the music. In about thirty seconds he'll slip out of here. No high fives or hugs after the performance. No patting Niall on the back and saying “Good show, pet.”

“ _Everything comes back to you...”_

Harry watches as Niall stands up and waves to the crowd. “Thank you San Jose,” he says, leaning over into the mic briefly before turning and walking off stage.

Harry gets up to leave too. He shoves his hands into his pockets and he's out of there before the next act has a chance to start. He can hear it faintly as he walks briskly through the arena. He keeps his head down, but Niall's song still haunts his thoughts.

He takes a deep breath as he steps outside into the night. That was nice, he tells himself. He can go and support him as a member of the group. But that's where it's got to end. He's got to get over it, he says to himself as he walks to his car. It'll kill him if he doesn't.

* * *

An afterparty for a show isn't something Niall's unfamiliar with, but it's rare. Before, he'd be off the stadium and the bus would be rolling away from the venue before the band was finished playing. Afterparties were reserved for award shows and the like.

He supposes this is similar, but there's the added high of the entire audience being fans rather than industry people. Everyone seemed to know his song and everyone sang along and everyone screamed for him and yeah, he's feeling pretty good.

Harry's only a faint thought in the back of his mind. And right now, his mind is clouded by his fourth or fifth drink.

“Niall!”

He feels a hand on his back and comes face to face with Ellie – who he hasn't seen in ages. He smiles. It's probably partially the alcohol, but seeing a familiar face puts him at ease and he pulls her in for a hug.

“I've been looking everywhere for you!” she laughs, pulling away from him slightly but still touching his arm. “Where have you been hiding?”

He shrugs a bit, simply shaking the drink in his hand and laughing.

“Of course,” she says. “You were so great out there.”

He laughs a bit. No, he wasn't. He was rubbish and his voice cracked four times. But it's nice of her to say. “Thanks. You weren't so bad yourself, Goulding.”

She waves him off, but keeps smiling all the same. “Oh stop. So...” She peeks around him, as if she's looking for someone. “You're here all on your own.”

“Yeh,” he says, finishing off his drink and grabbing another from a server who's walking by. “On hiatus, you know. Just me.”

“Right...” she trails off, giving him a bit of a look. “So none of the others are here, then?”

Obviously she's feeling around on if Harry's there with him. Still touching his arm, at that. They've slept together a couple times before. Nothing serious – just when they both happened to be in the same place at the same time. Perfect for what his life was like before. Before Harry, he thinks, before he pushes the thought out of his mind.

“Just me,” he repeats, moving in closer to her. “Hey, you know what we haven't done in a while?” he asks with a cheeky grin before leaning in and kissing her.

She pulls away after a moment and flutters her eyelashes. “Hmmm... you wanna get out of here, then?”

He nods, holding up his index finger for her to wait just a moment. He downs his gin and tonic in one go and grabs ahold of her wrist to pull her along.

She just laughs, following behind him. “You haven't changed.”

He smiles through the pain as he looks back at her. No, he supposes he hasn't. So maybe Harry was right after all. He pulls her into a single bathroom and latches the door behind them before hoisting her up onto the marble sink.

“What?” she asks, wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. “Am I not good enough for the hotel?”

Niall laughs a little, leaning in to kiss her again. No, it's not that. It's just that he knows if he sobers up by the time they get to the hotel he won't go through with this. She keeps her legs tight around him, kissing him as she grinds against him.

Niall moves aside to kiss her neck. He likes Ellie well enough. She's soft and sweet and they've always been friends. Her blonde hair is loose today, and Niall's face gets lost in it as he kisses her. He takes in a deep breath. It smells like coconut – and instantly he's reminded of how Harry's hair always smelled like pears. His hair was long too, but it's not anymore. Niall wonders now what it'd be like to be with him now, with the shorter hair. Nothing to run his hands through. Or at least, not as much.

Ellie brings him back to earth by pulling away from him and fumbling with the zipper on his jeans. He gasps when she touches him and has to take another deep breath. Because this is definitely going to happen and he's not sure he's ready for it.

He's obviously good at hiding his internal crisis, because she hikes up her dress and pulls him in closer.

“Ellie,” he breathes out as she guides him into her. “It's... it's been a long time for me.”

“It's alright,” she says, placing her fingers on his mouth. “We'll take it slow.”

That wasn't what he meant, and if anything that's the opposite of what he wants because this isn't really working for him. She's rocking against him and making soft noises that would have driven him crazy a couple of years ago. Now he's literally going through the motions, just waiting for it to be over.

Which it's never going to be if he keeps up like this. He pulls her in closer and takes control. He grips her waist as he moves quicker. He closes his eyes and lets himself get lost in her long hair again. It's coconut, but it'll do well enough.

He keeps moving against her and imagines Harry's strong arms around him. Harry's soft hands moving along his body. Harry's warm, wet mouth around his cock.

That's all it takes for him and he thrusts hard. One, two, three times and his breath catches in his throat. “Ellie,” he moans as he comes, because he's still at least slightly aware of where he is.

It's even more apparent when he opens his eyes and sees his own reflection in the mirror, with Ellie's back against him. He blonde hair is spilling down her back and her figure is awfully feminine. He tries to swallow the lump building in his throat, but it's too late and his eyes fill with tears.

“Niall,” she sighs, still holding him. Then she looks down at his head, which is buried in her neck. “Niall?” she asks, pulling away from him and noticing his tear-streaked face. “My god, what is wrong?” she asks softly.

“Harry,” he manages to get out before collapsing onto her again. “I just... we're not... I love him so much.” He can't hold it in any longer, and his body shakes with sobs.

“Oh, Niall,” she says soothingly, holding him until he calms down. “I'm sorry, we shouldn't have done that.”

He shrugs, stepping backwards and fixing up his clothes. Not like it matters, he's not sleeping with Harry. Might as well be sleeping with her. At least if he was going to melt down it was with a friend rather than someone he didn't know.

“Come on,” she says, sliding off of the counter and taking his arm. “I'll take you back to the hotel.”

He just nods and follows her, but not without one last glance at himself in the mirror. Such a fucking mess.

* * *

Niall stumbles back into his hotel room half an hour later. He pulls off his shirt and tosses it in the corner but only gets halfway through figuring out his jeans before giving up and falling into bed.

He rolls onto his back and lets the cool air from the air conditioner hit his face. He really needs to stop drinking so much, because it's not even two in the morning and he's already starting to feel sick. It's hard for him to understand how he used to do this on tour every night when their schedule was far worse than his is now.

Younger then. That, and Harry wasn't there to keep him in line. He rubs his eyes with his thumb and finger. They're still red and dried out from his meltdown earlier. As much as he hates to admit it, he's still just as fucked up as he was right after he left for Australia. Only now he's not running from anything.

He chokes back a sob and drags himself over to the minibar. He grabs a bottle of water and sloshes it around his dry mouth. At least he hadn't opted for the other options in there, so he must be making progress.

But when he catches a glance of himself in the mirror he knows that's a lie. Bloodshot eyes and splotches on his chest, still drinking himself into a stupor because he can't handle all the shit he's got to deal with.

“Done,” he says to no one but his own reflection. “You're done.” He's got to go back to how he was when he was with Harry, just without him. No more dwelling on it. No more drinking and no more sleeping around.

“It's done,” he says again, nodding to himself before taking another sip of water and crawling back into bed.

He's asleep for maybe an hour before his phone buzzes and wakes him up. He grabs it off the nightstand and takes a peek at it. There's a notification in the 1D Group Chat and Niall squints his eyes. They haven't used that in ages _._ He didn't even know it still existed.

He opens it up and his heart sinks. It's a single message from Louis.

_Mum's gone._

* * *

Harry rolls his suitcase through Heathrow and glances down at his phone for the millionth time that day.

Everything is fucked up. Which isn't new. But it's a completely new kind of fucked up. There's been a sadness in the pit of his stomach for the past three days. Ever since Louis messaged the four of them.

Harry didn't even know that the five-way chat they had was still active. Even more surprising was Niall's almost immediate text back to the entire group. _We're comin to see u on x factor then._

Harry shakes his head as he reads through the conversation yet again.

 _Don't be an idiot._ Louis.

 _Too late._ Niall again.

 _We'll be there._ Liam – an hour later.

 _Yup._ His own message. Because what else was there to say?

There's nothing from Zayn. While not surprising, it's disappointing. Harry slips his phone back into his pocket and heads towards the cars. If he and Niall can put aside their bullshit for one evening, surely Zayn can send through a single text message.

Harry takes a deep breath as he steps into the backseat of a car. He pulls out his phone to quickly glance at the time. Just enough to drop his things off at home, change and head over to Wembley.

He leans his head against the window and watches as London zooms by. He sort of can't believe Niall's actually coming for this. According to the tour schedule, he's got a show the next night. He'll have to get on a plane as soon as this is over. But of course Niall would drop everything to be there for this without a second thought. Probably didn't even think about his schedule before saying he'd be there. He'd sort out his other commitments later.

Harry has to smile at that. Niall's loyalty to his friends had always been one of Harry's favourite things about him.

It doesn't take him long to drop off his things and have a quick shower. Before he knows it, he's stepping into the familiar backstage area. He swallows as he looks around. It was only a year ago that the four of them were here performing for the last time. So much has changed since then, it feels like a lifetime ago.

“ _I can't believe that it's all over,” Niall says, as he leans against Harry while they're standing backstage afterwards._

“ _It's not over,” Harry says, kissing him on the forehead. “It'll never be over.”_

Harry slowly peels open the door to Louis's dressing room and he's met with looks from Louis, Liam and Niall. The three of them are standing close together. Wet streaks and red eyes tell him that they've been crying.

“Nice of you to finally show up,” Louis says with a slight laugh, wiping his face with his hand. “Come here.”

Louis pulls him in for a hug and Liam and Niall take this as an opportunity for another tight group hug.The four of them stand there for a solid minute before pulling away.

“Lou,” Harry starts, looking to offer some kind of condolence.

Louis holds up his hand. “Don't,” he says. “I'll just start up again. But thanks.”

Harry just nods his head and looks to either side of him. Liam on his right and Niall on his right. Both of them look to be a mess. He keeps looking at Niall for what seems like too long, but Niall doesn't seem to mind. Instead he draws in a deep breath, as if to keep himself from crying again.

He places his hand on Niall's back and when Niall doesn't push him away he slides it up to his shoulder.

The four of them stand there in silence for a couple minutes, aside from a couple hitched breaths and tear wiping.

“Well this has been lovely,” Louis says, breaking the silence. “But I'm going to have to ask you lot to leave since I've got to get ready.”

The three of them move in for a group hug again but Louis puts his hands up and steps backwards. “Nope, nope. Just get going.”

They nod and head back out to the front area. Liam leads the way, pointing them in the direction of the seats that are reserved for the three of them. He slides in first, sitting beside Cheryl. Harry and Niall follow quickly behind.

They're out in public now, so their unspoken rule of no obvious affection is presumably back in effect. Harry glances over at Liam and Cheryl, who are whispering and having their own conversation. He glances back over at Niall, who just looks at him. They two of them don't say anything, but they don't need to. It's written all over both of their faces. Harry must look like he's about to crack again, because Niall pats him a couple times on the knee before turning his attention towards the stage.

Harry hasn't been following X Factor this season, but it doesn't matter. He's not paying that much attention to the contest portion of the show anyway. He's much more focused on how Niall's arm keeps rubbing up against his own.

He glances over at him every so often. Niall doesn't seem bothered. In fact, he seems to actually be interested in the show. That makes sense – both Niall and Louis always followed it religiously.

But at least he's not jerking himself away.

Harry keeps looking forward, but his mind is somewhere else. This whole mess is stupid. He and Niall spent so much time being angry with each other for no reason. And now, sitting here, he really can't understand why. He tries to piece it all together but comes up short. It's nothing other than their stupid pride getting in the way.

They obviously didn't split because it fizzled and died. That can't be it – not with the way Harry's heart still swells when he looks at him.

The lights dim and Olly announces Louis and Steve's performance. Niall leans down and puts his head in his hands. “I don't think I can handle this,” he mutters before sitting back up.

Harry reaches down, placing his hand on top of Niall's. Niall laces their fingers together, pulling their hands down where no one else can see them. He looks up at Harry with his lips pressed together, offering him a slight nod.

Harry hasn't actually heard Louis's song yet, and he thanks god that it's upbeat. If it was something slow and sad, he's not sure he would be able to keep it together. Thankfully Niall's sat next to him, squeezing his hand tightly and offering reassuring glances every now and again.

Maybe they've actually got a hope in hell of fixing this thing.

* * *

The three of them are back in Louis's dressing room after the performance. They're just standing around and waiting, a little more pulled together than they were half an hour ago.

The door opens and Louis looks up at each of them. Harry draws in a breath and waits for him to say something.

“Thanks for being here, boys,” he says, walking towards them and pulling them in for a group hug. Harry holds each of them tightly, more aware of Niall's head on his shoulder than the others. No snarky comment from Louis, either. That's more telling than anything.

“Alright, enough,” Louis says, pulling away from them. “Haven't the three of you got anything better to do?” He turns to Niall specifically. “Don't you have to go back to the states?”

Niall shrugs. “I will, yeah.”

Louis nods and looks at the three of them. “That was great, but I've really got to be getting back. Don't be strangers, yeah?” He wags his finger at the three of them.

“Is that your way of telling us to leave?” Liam laughs.

Louis presses his lips together, widens his eyes and nods again.

They offer him a quick goodbye before leaving the room. Liam rushes off, presumably to go find Cheryl and go home. This leaves Harry walking down the hallway about three paces behind Niall. His heart beats fast and he knows he's only got this one chance to go for it. Who knows when they're going to see each other again?

“Niall,” he calls after him.

Niall stops and turns around, but he doesn't say anything.

Harry takes this opportunity to take a few steps forward and catch up to him. “Are you flying back to the states tonight?”

Niall shakes his head. “Tomorrow mornin'.”

“Come stay at my house tonight,” Harry blurts out.

“Can't, got bags at my place that I need.”

Harry starts to nod. Because of course one evening where they're able to get along is going to change everything. They're too far gone to try and fix this.

Niall cuts into his thoughts. “So you come to my place.”

“Yeah?” Harry asks, unable to hide the smile creeping up on his face.

Niall shrugs. “Sure. As long as you're okay without your scented candles for one night.” He turns around and starts walking again.

Harry follows him. “I might've left one or two there.”

Niall shakes his head, still walking down the hall. “I burnt them.”

Harry snorts. “You _burnt_ them?!”

“Yeah!” Niall protests, turning down the hall and opening the door for Harry. “That's what you do with candles, isn't it?”

Harry steps outside. It's chilly, but it's still unseasonably warm for December in the UK. “It is. I'm just surprised _you_ lit a candle.”

Niall shrugs, nodding towards one of the cars and stepping into the back of it. Harry follows behind him, sitting in the seat across from Niall. “Missed ya, I guess,” Niall says, looking down at the leather seat.

Harry takes a deep breath. If they're going to be sharing stuff, he might as well get in on that too. “I went to your show in San Jose.”

“What?”

“Your show in San Jose. I went to it.”

Niall looks like he thinks about that for a moment. He squints his eyes and studies Harry before shaking his head and leaning back in his seat. “No you didn't. I would have seen you on the list.”

“I bought a ticket.”

“You bought a ticket?” Niall repeats, like he doesn't believe it.

“Yeah. Sat up in the rafters.”

“Are you mad?!” Niall balks, but he still cracks a smile. “What if someone saw you?”

“I had a disguise.” Harry can't help but smile as well. Now that he's saying the words out loud, it's even more apparent to him how ridiculous all that was.

“You had a disguise,” Niall repeats. He covers his face with his hands. “Jesus Christ, Harry.”

Harry laughs a little. “Well you were really good,” he says, trying to steer the conversation back to a more serious place. He leans his head back against the tinted window. “You looked really happy.”

Niall pulls his hands off his face and they land in his lap. “Happy?” he asks almost bitterly. “You thought I looked happy?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Harry,” Niall starts, looking Harry straight in the eyes. “After that show I went to the afterparty, drank myself stupid, fucked Ellie and then had a meltdown right afterwards.”

Harry opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out. That's a lot of information for him to get in twenty seconds.

“Like right afterwards,” Niall continues, just like he always does when he opens the floodgates about something. “We were still... and I just fucking lost it. Jesus.” He runs a hand through his hair and looks at Harry.

“Why?” is all Harry can think of to ask.

“Because I missed you!” Niall almost shouts, as if it should be obvious.

“I missed you too.” Harry's voice his quieter, and he's much more calm about it. But the hurt is still there.

Niall leans back in his seat and stares out the window. “Well that's great then. The two of us sat across from each other. Missin' each other.”

“It doesn't have to be that way,” Harry says, sliding off his seat and sitting down next to Niall. He leans down to test the water. Niall doesn't move away from him. Instead, he scoots over closer, inching his face towards Harry's.

Harry draws in a breath as he kisses Niall on the mouth. His lips are as smooth and soft as ever, and he smells just the same as he used to.

“Goin' back to America tomorrow, Styles,” Niall says, pulling away from their kiss.

“You have a phone, Niall,” Harry says, kissing him again. “I know you know how to use it.”

Niall pulls away from him slightly and he shifts in his seat. He glances out the window again and Harry does too. They're getting closer to Niall's house now.

“Niall,” Harry says softly, being careful not to come off as too pushy. “I really want to fix this. To fix us.”

“Yeah,” Niall agrees, nodding his head at the ground before looking back up at Harry. “Me too.”

“So we'll be smarter, okay? We'll figure out how to do this without being around each other all the time.”

The car turns onto Niall's street. Niall sighs and looks up at Harry. “Yeah,” he says softly, kissing Harry on the cheek. “We'll do better this time.”

The car stops and Harry slides away from Niall just in time for the driver to let them out. He follows closely behind Niall as they walk the steps up to his house. And when Niall opens the door, Harry breaths a sigh of relief. The darkened hallway of Niall's house looks the same as he remembers it. Even the cedar wood smell of it is the same.

Niall kicks his boots off and doesn't bother straightening them up. He pulls his suit jacket off and at least that he hangs on a hook. He climbs up two stairs before looking back at Harry. “Upstairs, then?”

Harry darts up behind Niall and wraps his arms around his waist. He kisses Niall's cheek and inches his way down behind his ear. “You have to get some sleep tonight,” he whispers.

“I can sleep on the plane,” Niall says. He leans his head back on Harry's shoulder for a quick second before continuing upstairs. “Come on.”

* * *

Niall groans and arches his back as Harry slides into him.

Harry leans down and whispers into his ear. “I haven't even done anything yet, pet.”

Niall's chest tightens at Harry's old nickname for him. He tightens his arms around Harry and bites down on his lip. He's not going to let himself cry during sex for the second time in a week. So instead he starts rocking against Harry, burying his head in Harry's neck.

Harry pulls Niall's leg up beside him and holds onto it as he thrusts into him. Niall falls back down onto the bed and looks up at Harry. Beads of sweat are forming on his forehead and his hair is falling into his face. He's reached up to push it back a couple times already, but it's no use. It's too short now, and won't stay tucked behind his ears.

Niall lifts his waist as Harry hovers on top of him. Harry's rhythmic movements are doing little to satisfy his aching cock. He pulls Harry down closer, causing him to collapse onto him.

Niall hooks his arm around Harry's neck. “Harry...” he breathes as he starts rolling his hips again. Harry's torso is grinding against his prick and Niall can barely catch his breath.

“Niall,” Harry whispers in his ear, his voice low. “You like that?”

Niall knows he's not really asking – it's obvious that he does. If the noises pouring out of his mouth are any indication. Harry presses his weight down on him hard and Niall groans again. He throws his head back and squeezes his eyes shut. He bites the inside of his mouth and digs his heels into the mattress in a feeble attempt to make this last a second longer.

It doesn't work. He sighs and his body tenses as he comes, with Harry still grinding against him.

Niall lays there, catching his breath for a couple seconds before lifting himself back up. Harry's propped himself up again, slamming himself into Niall so he can finish himself off before Niall can't take it anymore.

Niall plants kisses along Harry's jawline, just like he remembers he likes. It works, too. Harry moans and Niall steals a quick glance at his face before going back to nipping at his skin. His face is flushed and his hair is wet and sticking to his forehead.

“Niall,” Harry moans, digging his fingers into Niall's back. “Ugh...”

He stops abruptly, and Niall can feel his cock pulsating inside him. He keeps kissing Harry's face for a couple seconds before Harry pulls away from him and opens his eyes.

“That was...” Harry starts, still trying to catch his breath.

“Yeah.” Niall nods in agreement before falling back down onto the bed. Harry follows, draping his arm overtop of Niall's chest.

Niall can hear Harry's soft breaths get deeper as he falls asleep. He stares up at the ceiling for a few minutes before closing his own eyes.

After all that shit, he's not letting Harry go this time.

* * *

Morning comes and before Harry can contemplate what's happening, Niall's shaking him awake. He peels open his eyes and sees Niall standing there, fully clothed. He hasn't shaved or done his hair, but it's wet so he's clearly already had a shower.

“Harry,” Niall says softly, still standing over him. “I gotta go.”

Harry rolls onto his side and looks up at Niall. “You're always leaving me,” he says quietly, his voice still thick with sleep. He cracks a half-smile so Niall knows he's kidding.

He does. “It's what I do best,” he says, leaning down and kissing Harry on the cheek. “But I really gotta go. Gotta get a flight, gotta get on that stage. You know how it is.”

Harry nods. He does. But this is new – Niall having to go off and do it all without Harry having to leave as well.

“You can stay here,” he continues, walking around the room and picking up a few things to stuff into his pockets. “There's a spare key by the door you can take.”

“Niall,” Harry says, ignoring his comment about the key. “I love you.”

Niall rolls his eyes. “Quit it, Styles. I'll be back in a week.” He looks back at Harry and sits down on the bed again. “But for what it's worth I love you too. Obviously.” He leans down and kisses Harry on the mouth for a moment before getting up again. “Okay, now I really gotta go...”

Harry just watches him putter about, looking around his bedroom and making sure he hasn't forgot anything. Niall looks back at Harry one last time and gives him a wave. “Just so you know,” he says before leaving. “I'm gonna have a hell of a time sitting on that plane.”

Harry rolls back into Niall's bed and bursts into laughter. It's good to be back.

* * *

There's a light dusting of snow outside when Niall returns to the UK. He stares down at his phone while he sits in Liam's living room.

_Back in London soon, just got some more recording to do x_

Niall smiles, tapping out a quick reply and biting his thumb, waiting for Harry to respond.

“Hello?” Liam says, waving his hand in front of Niall's face. Niall looks up and he sees Liam standing in front of him with a mug of coffee. “How's Harry doing?”

Niall slips his phone back into his pocket and takes the mug from Liam. He takes a sip and lets it linger on his lips for a moment before swallowing. He'll never tell Harry this, but Liam definitely makes better coffee than he does.

“Yeah, good.” Niall nods, leaning back on the couch. “Back soon, just finishing recording some stuff.”

“You're alright with that, then?” Liam asks, sitting down beside him.

Niall shrugs. “Yeah, why wouldn't I be?”

Liam shifts a little in his seat. “Because you were pretty clear you didn't want to take a break or work on other things.”

“Whatever, Liam.” Niall sighs, taking another sip of his coffee. Maybe he felt that way a couple years ago, but he's quite comfortable now that he's gotten used to it. The only thing that he clung to was Harry, and he's got that all sorted out now. “I'm doing my own thing too. It's fine.”

Liam gives Niall a quick pat on the shoulder before getting up again. “Hey, I've got something to show you.” He disappears out of the room for a minute and Niall turns his head to watch him. When he returns, he tosses something at Niall.

Niall catches it and sets his coffee down on the table. After fumbling with it for a second he realises what it is. A small velvet box that reveals a diamond ring when he opens it. He raises his eyebrow. “Nice, Liam, but I'm actually already taken so...”

Liam rolls his eyes and sits back down next to Niall. “It's not for you.”

“Obviously,” Niall says, snapping the box shut and giving it back to Liam. “So you're proposing to Cheryl then.”

Liam shrugs. “Eventually, yeah.”

Niall just nods silently, resting his head on his knuckles.

“What?”

Niall sighs. “It's just... what're you gonna go and do that for?”

Liam laughs with a smile that lights up his whole face. “She's having my baby, Niall.”

“Yeah, I know. Louis didn't go proposin' to Briana.”

“That's different.”

Niall just gives Liam a look. It's not _that_ different.

“Oh come on,” Liam says, still smiling. Like he's not going to let Niall's attitude ruin this for him. “I love her, don't ever want to be without her. Simple as that.”

Niall shrugs. Things were going to change as they all got older. He knows that well enough. He just never thought that changes would come this quickly. And all that shit that went down with Harry this year... maybe he's more grown up than he'd like to admit.

“Harry proposed to me,” he mutters, because if anyone can sort out his feelings about that mess, it's Liam.

“What?” Liam asks him, laughing a little bit. “When?”

“Long time ago. Like, right after the band split-”

“Went on hiatus.” Liam cuts him off.

Niall rolls his eyes. “Whatever. Just asked me out of nowhere. We were in bed, you know? Heat of the moment, I suppose.”

“And what did you say?”

Niall covers his mouth with his hand and drags it along his face.

“Ah,” Liam says. “The two of you didn't speak for nearly a year.”

“Right.”

“Well, I don't know what sort of advice I can offer you.” Liam picks up his coffee and takes a thoughtful sip. “But I've seen the two of you together and I've seen the two of you apart. And believe me, you're both a lot easier to take when you're together.”

“Yeh, thanks Liam,” Niall says sarcastically, taking a sip of his coffee.

“You're happy together,” Liam says. “Just focus on that.”

Niall nods. He knows Liam's right. He always is. Still, the thoughts linger in his mind.

* * *

**One year later**

Niall shifts in his seat. He's sitting beside Harry in a church in Wolverhampton, watching Liam and Cheryl exchange vows. It's quiet as everyone listens to the two of them, the only light inside are the candlesticks flickering. There's probably about a thousand of them.

He strains his neck to watch as Liam places the ring on Cheryl's finger. His stomach twists and he sticks his hand into the pocket of his trousers. In there he's got a simple gold band that he rolls between his thumb and forefinger.

He glances up at Harry. He's smiling, green eyes bright and happy for their friends. Despite the year that they've had, he doesn't look tired at all. The movie release, each of them releasing an album and touring on their own could have taken its toll, but it didn't. They managed to make it work, not wanting to go back to the mess that they found themselves in before.

Niall realises he's been lost in his thoughts because before he knows it, Liam and Cheryl have turned to face the crowd.

Everyone stands up to clap and Niall takes a deep breath. He nods as Liam and Cheryl walk past them. Then, he sticks his hand back into his pocket and slips the ring onto his finger being careful to stop it at the knuckle.

He turns to watch Harry. The moment he stops clapping and lets his hands drop to his sides, Niall takes hold of his left hand. His heart is pounding in his chest, and he's probably sweating too. But he convinces himself that's just because it's warm in the church.

He laces his fingers with Harry's, but not before slipping the ring onto Harry's finger.

Harry squeezes Niall's hand tight for a second. He gets a confused look on his face and glances down at his hand. “What's this?” he whispers. No one's paying them any attention. Everyone around them is still clapping and watching Liam and Cheryl leave the church.

Niall shrugs. “Just figured you could have that. Wear it when you're ready.” He looks up at Harry, hands stuffed back into his pockets. “'Cause I'm ready for ya.”

Harry studies him for a second. Niall takes a deep breath. Maybe Harry thinks this is stupid. Maybe it's just going to cause another argument. Maybe he should have just left everything alone.

But Harry places his hands on Niall's shoulders and runs them down his back. He leans in slowly, kissing Niall softly. “I've always been ready for ya,” he whispers, imitating Niall's accent.

Niall knows that's not completely true, but he'll let it slide for the sake of the moment. He glances back as Liam and Cheryl step outside and smiles. For the first time in years, he's at peace.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading <3 It's actually a sequel to something that I have that's half finished, that I'll probably finish eventually.
> 
> Come talk to me on [tumblr!](http://sakabelle.tumblr.com)


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